


We can be Heroes

by WildBlueSonderling



Series: We [3]
Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Color Code, Crime Fighting, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Het, Mild Smut, Realistic, Slow Burn, Superpowers, Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2020-07-09 05:24:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19882360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WildBlueSonderling/pseuds/WildBlueSonderling
Summary: The Powerpuffs and Rowdyruffs join forces with their progenitors to take down the Morbucks empire. New relationships will flourish despite the fighting as the ten of them strive to attain their own ordinary, peaceful lives... or as ordinary as they can be with superpowers.





	1. Enemy of My Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on FFN! If you're reading it there why not bookmark and leave a kudo? If you're new to the story, welcome! Final part of a trilogy. Comments are appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

Listless.

That was how Brick felt in the wake of what happened at the research facility. There was a lot he should be doing but he just couldn't find the motivation to act until he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Powerpuffs were actually safe with Professor Newtronium's "baby girls". Why had they busted them out? What were they doing right now? Where in the world were they? As soon as he returned to his own house Brick tried tapping any and all sources on file for information, but there was no word about superhumans other than the Puffs and Ruffs. He should have accepted those dossiers instead of looking down his nose at Newtronium, then he'd have an idea of who they were dealing with. His arrogance was the cause of every problem he currently faced.

He should've just asked, one simple question: _"Max, why do you want these investors out of the picture?"_ Armed with the answer Brick would've proceeded as normal, the past year unfolding exactly as it had, only he'd stop when he realized he didn't want the Puffs to fall into Max's hands. He would've abandoned the contract and returned the first half of the payment, no hard feelings. He would've gone to Mexico with Blossom and spent quality time with her. Seen her on the first day of school and made a stupid joke about deciding to compete with her for valedictorian, after all. He would've asked her to go with him to Homecoming, and come up with all kinds of activities they could participate in throughout the year, and maybe she'd invite him and his brothers to Christmas at her home again. When the new semester rolled around he would've chosen classes she was also taking so they could study together, and at the end of the year he'd ask her to be his date to Prom because apparently that was a big deal and he couldn't conceive the thought of Blossom going with anyone besides him.

But none of that ever had a chance at coming to pass. The choices Brick had made were irrevocable.

His brothers always referred to him as "the man with the plan" but for once he was completely clueless. All he wanted was to find out whether or not the Powerpuff Girls were safe. After that he was done, omitting himself from their lives so he'd never inadvertently hurt them again. Brick had been designed to be a villain; it was in his DNA to harm people. If he hadn't denied his own nature, none of this would have happened. Dragging Butch and Boomer all over the globe, solving other people's problems, ending up back in Townsville, meeting the Puffs again, befriending them, falling in love…

No wait, that last thing didn't apply to Brick. If he _had_ fallen in love with Blossom he wouldn't be able to live with himself right now, although his current state could hardly be considered "living". Days had passed since the incident but he wasn't sure how many. He didn't eat, sleep, do laundry or shower or anything that might make him miss being contacted by Une and Tvaer. He assumed it'd be via phone since the network was secure so he never set it down, the Nervo practically fusing with his hand. His eyes twitched from staring at the screen so much. It was when his calendar read Friday the 13th that someone finally reached out to him.

"Holy hell, it smells like something _died_ in here."

"Brick, where the fuck are ya?!"

Make that two someones.

His brothers found him in bed upstairs. "Don't tell me you've been lying here for the past week!" Boomer exclaimed, although the malodorous abode indicated just that.

"People have been askin' 'bout you at school, Bro," Butch put in.

Brick rolled over to face them. "Why are you still going to school? What's the point?"

"Better than mopin' around like this," he returned.

"I'm not moping, I'm being attentive."

"You're being gross." Boomer wrinkled his nose. "Seriously, take a shower. I'm gonna throw your clothes in the wash."

Brick leapt to his feet. "Don't touch my stuff! Do I invade your loft and start going through _your_ things?!"

"No, but _I_ started doing my own laundry before either of you. And _I_ don't currently smell like a month-old gym bag." Boomer gave Butch a nod and began gathering garments strewn across the floor. Butch swept Brick over his shoulder and carried him into the bathroom.

He landed on his posterior in the bathtub, cold water shocking his system. His teeth chattered before it warmed up, then he shoved his unruly short hair out of his face, glaring upward. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's for your own good," Butch said, folding his arms. "Get clean and then start packin' your shit for when those girls call. We wanna be ready to leave as soon as they do."

How dare his younger brothers barge in on him unannounced, manhandle him, and boss him around. Who did they think they were?!

Brick's anger ebbed after a few moments. He stood, throwing his now-soaked T-shirt and sweatpants over the curtain, dispensing a liberal amount of shampoo into his palm. How had he let himself fall into such a sorry state? He was supposed to be the leader, the one taking care of his siblings. God, he'd been selfish. He'd lost a friend, sure, but Boomer and Butch had lost girls they loved, girls who might never love them back now. He couldn't imagine what that must feel like.

Butch was rummaging around the kitchen when Brick came downstairs, proffering a box of protein bars. "Looks like you've lost a few pounds already. Eat."

Boomer returned from the laundry room. "I guess we'll hold off on the packing since you don't have _any_ clean clothes. But you're still coming with us to school."

"Why?" Brick asked. He really didn't see the point.

"So we can tell Miss Keane what's up."

Oh, right; their entire grade probably wondered what happened to the Girls. Once again Brick was so selfish he hadn't realized there were people who cared about them just as much as or even more than him, including… "Professor Utonium. We should tell him what's going on, too." Boomer nodded. Good plan.

Miss Keane looked relieved to see the three of them. "Nice to have you back, Brick," she remarked, "although it appears you're not equipped to attend classes."

Boomer shook his head. "We're gonna be gone for a while, Miss Keane."

"Got some personal business to take care of," Butch added.

"We're not sure when we'll return, so I guess… we're withdrawing for the time being," Brick finished.

"I see." She consulted something on her computer. "As long as you re-enroll before your twenty-first birthday, you can still graduate."

That was news to them. "Really? We can come back?"

"Certainly." Miss Keane smiled warmly. "The same goes for the Girls. Be sure to tell them, won't you?"

Brick nodded. "We will."

"And bring them home safe. I want to hand out diplomas to all six of you."

Boomer beamed and Butch tossed a wave over his shoulder, but a lump had formed in Brick's throat that made it impossible to say anything until they reached the Utonium residence, ringing the doorbell. "Boys… what are you doing here?" the Professor inquired. He looked so tired, his red eyes lined with wrinkles and his facial hair scruffy. Coffee stains dotted his grey tee.

"We just wanted to inform you that we're going to try our best to bring the Girls back to you," Brick replied. "We have a lead on who rescued them from the facility."

"Ah…" The Professor stepped aside. "Why don't you come in so we can talk?" They claimed the living room sofa as the man rubbed his beard. "Give me a minute to make myself presentable."

"No worries, Prof," Butch said. "Brick was in worse shape than you this mornin'."

He smiled ruefully and went upstairs, returning in slightly cleaner condition. The Professor sank into his armchair, sighing. "So you three were there when Une and Tvaer arrived?"

"They almost blew us up," Boomer answered.

"What do you know about them?" Brick pressed, then added, "Any information would help."

"Not all that much, I'm afraid. I did meet them once, when they were the equivalent of seven years old. I wasn't thrilled when Joan told me that she had experimented on the human genome with Chemical W, but admittedly I was curious. Her children are… special. Their powers aren't like yours or my Girls'. They're a little bit more… catastrophic, which was why Joan wanted to keep them locked up in her lab. I told her that was wrong but she must not have listened because they escaped sometime later, and no one has heard from them since."

Well, that was mildly disconcerting. "How were the Girls taken?" Brick wanted to know. "It must've happened after senior orientation."

The Professor rubbed his brow and closed his eyes, opening them to regard the Ruffs with unexpected determination. "As we were getting ready for dinner people from Morbucks' private army showed up at our door with weaponized Antidote X. It's called Antix now and it's being marketed as a hot new hallucinogen. There's also Chemix which has mutagenic effects on ordinary people. If you're going to prevent that man from reclaiming the Girls you'll most likely encounter his Clarent mercenaries shooting both at you, but the latter should be harmless."

Boomer and Brick looked grim to hear that there was now ammunition in existence that could actually harm them, but Butch wore a smirk. It'd be boring if the fight were too easy. As they made to leave he withdrew a fob from his pocket and handed it to the Professor. "Here's the key to my Porsche. Would you mind takin' care of it while I'm gone?"

The man blinked, stunned, yet accepted. "Sure thing, kiddo, but where is it?"

"Address is on the slip inside. Thanks, Prof!" Butch joined his brothers in the sky.

"You're ridiculous," Boomer said.

"What? I want my car to be in good hands! It can't just sit in the garage the whole time. It needs to be driven."

"Like it's a pet you have to exercise?"

"Exactly!"

Brick flew to his house on instinct, deep in thought and unaware his brothers had followed him until they landed on the deck. "Aren't you going back to your own homes?" he asked.

"Nope! We're crashin' with you till it's time to leave," Butch asserted.

"Why do you think we brought our field bags?" Boomer rhetorically asked.

"I didn't notice," Brick mumbled. But now that he was actually taking stock of the situation, he realized there was something he had forgotten to do. He promised to update Dexter on the whereabouts of the Puffs, texting him a thorough yet concise message. As an afterthought, he added that he was going to bring them home to Townsville, and Dexter replied _I know you three can do it._ He had more faith in Brick than Brick did.

* * *

The Ruffs spent their whole Saturday making sure they were prepared to deal with whatever came next. Traveling was a given so they gathered passports and currency. They made sure rent would still get paid during their absence with the help of automatic withdrawals. They visited a storage unit where their tactical gear had been transferred from the conex; if they were going up against Antix bullets it would at least be prudent to wear body armor. "Comms check," Butch spoke into his long-range headset. "You read me, Blue Angel?"

"Roger that, Green Machine. Do you read, Red Leader?"

"Roger." They reconvened at their unit, grabbing NODs and thermal optics. There wasn't much else they needed due to being biological weapons; if they could see the enemy in any light, they could counteract accordingly. Explosive ordnance probably wasn't necessary for the mission so they locked it back up, returning to Brick's bungalow where they sat and continued to wait.

Boomer awoke early the following morning, too anxiety-ridden about seeing Bubbles again to sleep soundly. She had come right up to the glass divider and would have embraced him, he was certain. She knew it wasn't his fault for putting her in that awful place, already forgiving him for working for Mr. Morbucks. She regarded him with hope, not hate, not like he'd betrayed her. Blossom's words still stung, though; the Ruffs _had_ sold them out because they themselves were sellouts. But not any more, never again. Maybe Brick didn't have a plan but Boomer did, and it was to tear down Max's entire empire, leaving him destitute and then imprisoned for… crimes against humanity or something. He didn't care, he just wanted the entitled fuck to die alone with nothing.

He played a mobile game on silent until his stomach growled for food, then he raided Brick's kitchen. Unfortunately there were a lot of singular ingredients and not many pre-made meals. Why did he have to be so into cooking? Boomer found and peeled a mandarin, paying no attention to his Nervo until he tried resuming the game only to be met with a black screen. Pressing the side buttons did nothing. Then, on a whim, he checked his brothers' phones and they too were black. "What's going on?" he questioned aloud.

 _"Voice recognition confirmed,"_ said the virtual assistant. _"Reboot sequence initiated."_

He left his chair to shake his siblings awake. "Brick! Butch! Get up, our phones are doing something weird!" The former was instantly alert, the latter a bit slower to react. There was now a blinking hyphen in the lower right corner of Boomer's screen.

"Is it broken?" Brick inquired, starting a little when his virtual assistant repeated the same "reboot sequence initiated" line.

"Whas 'appenin'?" Butch asked through a yawn.

 _"Voice recognition failed,"_ said his Nervo.

He glared at it. "Didn't I turn your annoyin' ass off?"

_"Voice recognition confirmed."_

Butch leaned over the counter, waiting until his screen also had a blinking white line in the corner. "Looks busted to me, Bro."

"I don't think so," Brick mused. "This resembles command prompt." As if those were the magic words, text and symbols began filling each screen at an alarming rate, growing dense with gibberish. The holographic projection lenses flickered and three different images appeared, portraits of strangers. Except two of them had names. "It's you…" Brick breathed in awe and relief. "Une and Tvaer. You contacted us like you said." His faith in humanity had been fractionally restored.

"Of course we did," the aqua-haired girl replied. The Ruffs saw and heard her with crystal clarity as if she were there in person. "I never say anything I don't mean."

"Why are you letting him call you by those names?" It was a boy who demanded this. His tattooed skin was a deep beige tone. He had a square jaw, sharp cheekbones, and gleaming golden irises. His dark brown hair was styled into a messy mohawk and his face was decorated with a variety of piercings.

"We did not give them our real names," said the pale girl, who had an otherworldly allure about her. She was almost preternaturally pretty, like a…

"Are you an elf?" Boomer blurted, and she blinked her upturned silver eyes at him before laughing exactly like a fairy or pixie would, soft and clear.

"Bubbles said the exact same thing!" she tittered.

"You have her? Where is she? And her sisters? Where are you?"

The boy raised a hand. "Calm down. I didn't reprogram your Nervos for shits and giggles. Let's get the formalities out of the way." He breathed deeply. "Hi, I'm Beaux. These are my sisters Bliss and Belle. No need to introduce yourselves, we already know everything about you. But we don't know if you can be trusted."

"Says the dude who hacked our phones," Butch quipped.

"What I did is so far beyond hacking I doubt your feeble mind could comprehend it." Bliss shot him a stern look. "Right, sorry, I'm not supposed to antagonize you."

"Doin' a great job so far."

Bliss interjected before her brother could retort again. "Belle and I retrieved the Powerpuff Girls from that underground facility for reasons we'd like to discuss with you in person. We're sending coordinates to your Nervos."

The three strangers blipped off, and although their phones seemed to be in working order again Brick was wary. Inputting the coordinates to the holographic map revealed an unexpected destination: Singapore. Wordlessly the Boys gathered their bags and flew in a low formation across the Pacific. Although they generally didn't give a fuck about violating international airspace, especially Brick, it seemed wise to stay under the radar now. They spotted a vacant cove, landing on the beach. "How did we never come here before?" Boomer asked, admiring their tropical surroundings.

"First time for everything." Brick studied his Nervo secure in its armband. "It seems like those three are located at the harbor. If we cut through this jungle we'll reach the eastern shore."

Once in the midst of civilization they earned a few odd looks but were otherwise ignored, dutifully following the arrow on the map to a two-story building. There were plenty of windows but they were of the blackout variety, and there was an impressive assortment of cables, antenna, and satellite dishes on the roof. As they stood there studying the exterior the mail slot suddenly transformed into a high-tech interface. "You're going to have to provide handprint and retinal scans before we allow you inside," came Beaux's voice through the speaker. "You first, Boomer." He shot his eldest brother an uncertain glance but received a nod, placing his palm on a screen and then staring at a flickering light. Butch went next and Brick was last. "Thanks for your cooperation. The door's open now."

They weren't sure what to expect, half anticipating the whole thing to be a trap. In the very center of the vast space was a large circular desk covered in monitors and flanked by two servers attached to water cooling units, a mass of cords dangling from the ceiling. Strangely there were no keyboards, mice, or other peripherals. To the right was some kind of medical station with an exam table, overhead lights, weird equipment, and a giant capsule Brick suspected might be an MRI machine. Behind that section, in a cubicle of sorts, was an industrial 3D printer and digital drafting table. The entire left third of the first floor was basically Butch's dream home gym complete with a boxing ring.

"Done gawking at our stuff yet?" Beaux, Bliss, and Belle stood a ways away, fanned out to prevent the Ruffs from getting farther inside should they try anything sketchy.

"You're the ones who invited _us_ ," Boomer pointed out.

"Doesn't mean you won't attack us," Bliss countered. "But since you were wondering, the Powerpuff Girls aren't here."

Belle raised her hands and took careful steps forward. "We did not lure you here in an attempt to harm you. This is our primary base of operations, the truest thing we have to a home. We would like it very much if it remained intact."

"And we'd like it very much if you told us what you did with the Puffs," Brick returned. It bothered him slightly that Belle had an inch on him, yet she was so willowy he could probably incapacitate her without using his super strength, like breaking a porcelain doll.

Bliss came to stand beside her sister. "They're staying at a hotel nearby. We treated them with Chemical X and told them you were coming. They weren't exactly thrilled about that."

"We still want… we _need_ to talk to them."

"You'll get the chance, but first we have to be sure we can trust you." Bliss's violet gaze swept over the Boys. She was also tall, at least six feet, exuding the confidence and authority of a natural leader, the head woman in charge. Beaux was the shortest person there, shorter than Bubbles and her five-foot-five stature, but the way he looked at the Ruffs made them feel small. "We know Newtronium propositioned you to find us and return us to captivity. Did you accept her offer?"

Brick's brow furrowed. "Of course not. After you grabbed the Girls we wanted nothing to do with her."

"We left her under that chunk of concrete," Butch said.

One corner of Bliss's mouth turned up, and she received a slight nod from Belle. "Do you know what she was going to give you in exchange for finding us?"

Boomer shrugged. "Info about that new Chemix and Antix stuff, but Professor Utonium told us for free."

"Right, Maximilian weaponized it just like he did with the W compounds," Beaux explained. "They're marketed under the names 'Kew' and 'Dow'. Like Chemical X, Chemical W doesn't affect us but is harmful to regular people. If it enters the bloodstream it causes brain aneurysms." He turned halfway toward the computer monitors. "Want to see what Chemix does to people? It's really nasty."

"Not before dinner, Beaux," Belle chided, her narrow nose scrunching. She then smiled kindly at the Ruffs. "Would you like to join us?"

"For dinner?" Brick clarified. "I thought you didn't trust us."

"Past tense," Bliss assured. "Now that we're positive you came here of your own free will and not at Newtronium's behest, there are some things we'd like to talk about." The Boys finally set down their bags and trailed the trio up a set of metal stairs along the back wall.

At the top, Beaux raised a hand to stop them. "No shoes allowed."

"Seriously?" Butch griped. Combat boots weren't exactly the easiest thing to slip on and off.

"The outside world is seriously disgusting. Shoes _off_."

Their boots joined an assortment of casual footwear. The second floor of the building consisted of the living quarters which was divided into four bedrooms, two full bathrooms, a large kitchen, and a sitting room. The carpet was white, the walls mid-blue, and there was enough décor and bric-a-brac to make it seem like a perfectly average family lived here. "Did you build this yourselves?" Brick wondered.

"Indeed," Beaux answered. "It was more efficient to combine our personal home with our workspace in lieu of traveling to and from apartments. If someone deduced who we really were, they could've caught us off-guard."

"We tried living separately for a while, but it didn't feel right," Bliss said. "We're the only ones we can trust." She indicated the dining table. "Sit, if you want." Boomer did so but Brick and Butch remained standing, scoping out the place some more.

"What're you making?" Boomer inquired. Whatever was cooking smelled delicious.

"It's called laksa." Bliss tossed them a nervous look. "You're not allergic to anything, are you? Specifically coconut and shrimp." The brothers shook their heads. "I thought so, but better to be on the safe side."

"You said you knew everything 'bout us," Butch reiterated. "How's that work?"

"I know everything about everything," Beaux answered.

He rolled his eyes. "Okay."

"I'm not being a cocky shit, really. I have access to all human knowledge. Any subject you can think of, I'm an expert. Any _useful_ subject, I should say. Sciences, mathematics, engineering, computers, linguistics, history, medicine, politics, quantum mechanics…" Beaux tapped his temple. "It's all here."

"How?" Brick and Butch deigned to sit for the explanation.

"My superpower is linking my consciousness with signals. When I was a kid I could only connect to the internet, but now that I'm older I can gather data from any device that transmits electromagnetic waves." Beaux waved a hand as if it were trivial. "That's why we made Singapore our homebase. This country has the fastest internet in the world due to their robust fiber-optic network, not that my mental processing speeds rely on cables and providers. It's just convenient."

Brick mulled the explanation over for a minute. It was both ridiculous and fascinating, the idea of mind connecting to a computer network. "So you download information to your brain. Can you also upload data?" he questioned.

Beaux nodded. "Indeed. That's how I was able to alter your Nervo operating systems."

"But… they're supposed to be protected by quantum encryption."

"They are, but there isn't a computer in existence that has the processing power of the human brain." Beaux pulled a face as he thought of a simple explanation. "Computers function off a fixed set of rules. They can only do what they're programmed to, what we tell them to do. Even adaptive AI works within certain boundaries. Try to equate that with human consciousness, all the things we're aware of and have control over. There's still the subconscious, a layer we can't access. Some people like to theorize how 'enlightened' humanity would become if we had complete control over our brains, but then we'd have to do things like tell ourselves to keep breathing and extract nutrients from food and actively control every individual muscle in our bodies. Those are all subconscious functions, biological programming we take for granted." Again he gestured flippantly. "Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that I can subvert quantum encryption because the rules don't apply to me."

"Huh." Butch eyed the girls. "What're _your_ abilities?"

"I can manipulate the light spectrum from ultraviolet to infrared," Bliss answered. "The technical term is photokinesis. I can cloak myself and alter perceived appearances, like this." Her hair changed from tight aqua curls to loose pink waves. "It works on other people, too, and I can generate illusions surrounding inanimate objects. Stealth and disguise are my strong suits."

Brick raised an eyebrow. "Was it you who blew the hole in Max's facility?"

"Oh, yes, I did that by focusing UV rays." She shrugged. "Didn't think it would work so well."

"How did you avoid hitting the Powerpuffs?"

"Belle showed me where to aim. She's psionic." There was a foreign word. "She has psychic abilities."

"No way!" Boomer exclaimed. "Like what?!"

"Telekinesis and telepathy, and she's empathic," Bliss provided. Belle had her back to the rest of the room while chopping cilantro, but thanks to her bob haircut everyone could see that her neck was red with embarrassment. "Generally she doesn't talk, but she did it for your sake. The… four of us just communicate mentally through her."

Brick arched another eyebrow. "And where is your fourth sibling?"

Beaux and Bliss sighed in unison. "Well, that's the reason why we invited you here. And that's the secondary reason why we rescued the Powerpuff Girls, the main one being that we didn't want them to endure what we did when we were young. We couldn't let Maximilian attempt to use them as weapons against the world."

"They're people, not objects," Beaux vehemently stated. "Us, you, the Powerpuffs… we were all created to fulfill certain purposes. We may be able to surpass human limitations but we're still _human_ , and it's our human right to choose how to live."

Boomer recalled Bubbles saying something similar to him: _"Other people can tell us how to use our powers and how to live, but it's our choice alone."_ Twice in his recent past he'd been prepared to use his fulgurkinetic abilities to exact immediate vengeance on people who hurt his love. He was willing to kill for her, and it sounded like Beaux was a man of equal conviction regarding his siblings. "So are you guys planning to get back at Max and Newtronium for all they've done?" he asked.

Bliss nodded. "Destroying that facility in Townsville was satisfactory, but there are many others around the globe in addition to factories where Kew, Dow, Chemix and Antix are being produced. We need to destroy them too, and hunt down the distributors, and once there's no one left who can engineer Chemical X or W and their antidotes, we'll go after Maximilian personally. Take out his assets one by one. Beaux has the ability to financially ruin him. He could get into his accounts and transfer all his money elsewhere right now, but there's no point in doing that when Maximilian has multiple sources of income. We need to cut off all the heads of the snake before dealing a blow to the body."

"I'm likin' your guys' style," Butch said with a grin. "I'm in."

"Me too," Boomer agreed.

They both turned to Brick. "Whaddya say, Bro? We should work with them."

"We won't be able to live in peace until Max is out of the picture, out of Townsville. He _has_ to go."

Revenge was the motive for all of them, but Brick couldn't help but feel his brothers were directing it at the wrong person. His progenitors were probably justified in retaliating against Max and Newtronium for whatever wrongs they'd suffered during their youth, but the man was not to blame for taking advantage of the Powerpuff Girls. The fault lay solely with Brick since his choices and actions had facilitated their capture. Because of him they were holed up somewhere in a foreign country surrounded by strangers, unknowing who they could trust if anyone at all. Certainly not him.

"The Powerpuffs already agreed to assist us," Belle spoke, reading his thoughts.

Brick shook his head. "I want to hear it from them in person. If they say they're going to help you, so will I."

"Bro, _c'mon_. Fireballs? Volatile chemicals?" Butch nudged him. "We'll wreck Max's shit."

He held firm. "Only if I can see that the Puffs are ready to fight again."

Bliss groaned. "Fine, you win. If it'll persuade you to join our cause, we'll have the six of you meet here tomorrow on neutral ground. That way we can intervene if things go haywire."

Boomer was dubious. "Like they'd attack us?"

"Buttercup is very angry at the three of you," Belle said softly.

"Oh. Yeah, neutral ground sounds good." Boomer knew how to choose his battles. The more bodies between him and a pissed-off Buttercup, the better.

There was a lull in the conversation to dish out laksa, Beaux and Belle eating in the sitting area as Bliss joined the Ruffs at the table. "So how old are you guys?" Butch asked. Brick gave him a look. No fucking tact.

"Hmm… how old _are_ we?" Bliss repeated. "We've always aged in spurts."

"The last physical and mental diagnostics placed us at the equivalent of twenty-one years old," Belle replied.

Brick hummed, meeting the set of violet eyes. "You didn't answer my question from before, about your other brother."

Bliss slumped in her chair. "His name is Blaze, he's physically the strongest of us. About a week ago, when Belle and I went to retrieve the Powerpuffs, Blaze left to do recon on a chemical factory… and we haven't heard from him since. We're pretty positive he got captured, but we don't know where he's being held. Beaux searches for mention of him every day but nothing's come up. So we were going to ask you and the Powerpuffs if you'd help us find Blaze before anything else."

"'Course we will," Butch declared, "families gotta stick together. Also, what's with your weird nicknames? 'Une' ain't a name, it's 'one' in French."

Beaux's spoon clattered in his empty bowl. "Exactly… it's _not_ an identity. Newtronium assigned us numbers during our development because we were nothing more than test subjects to her. Bliss was Une since her heritage is French-Caribbean. Belle was Tvaer, the feminine Icelandic form of 'two'. Blaze was Natt, 'three' in Wolof which is a language spoken in Senegal, Gambia, and Mauritania. I used to be Sai, 'four' in Thai. Did I mention that Newtronium stole our embryos from a genealogy bank?"

Silence pervaded the room for a beat. "Now I don't feel guilty for leaving her with that broken leg," Boomer said, earning little smiles from his hosts.

They were going to get along just fine.


	2. Stuck in the Middle with You

Bliss, Belle, and Beaux stood off to one side as the Puffs and Ruffs stared at each other in absolute silence. Although they didn't say anything out loud, Belle was able to transfer the pervasive feelings of distrust and remorse, yet she didn't need to sense Buttercup's emotions when her visceral reaction conveyed them quite clearly; little green sparks shot off her fingertips as soon as the Boys walked into Homebase. The longer they stood there not speaking to one another, the more tense she became. Now her white knuckles were surrounded by a pale green aura, raw energy escaping the confines of her body in response to her desire to pummel the Boys into dust. It had been a _very_ long time since Blossom saw her sister so full of aggression, just ready and waiting for the order to attack, to maim, to destroy them.

But Blossom didn't give it, and Buttercup's murderous intent dissipated after a minute as Belle pushed the guilt, regret, and self-loathing the Ruffs felt into their minds. They might not be able to exchange words just yet, but the goal was for all of them to work together to bring Blaze home. Belle thought it pertinent for them to understand each other at the very least.

Bubbles let out a choked sob and had her arms around Boomer in a flash, hugging him so fiercely that he stumbled back against the wall and they both slid to the floor. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" he murmured into her hair, returning her crushing embrace as tears welled up in his own eyes. It'd been forever since his brothers had seen him cry, but they were too jealous to mock him. Blossom and Buttercup were nowhere near as forgiving as Bubbles.

Bliss clapped her hands to earn their attention. "Powerpuff Girls, do you remember our conversation last week? Are you still willing to help us locate our brother?"

"And dismantle the Morbucks empire so you can go home?" Beaux added, which was kind of a rhetorical question.

Blossom gave a short sigh. "We don't really have a choice."

"Yes, you do," Belle refuted. "That is why we recruited the Rowdyruffs, so you don't have to fight if you do not wish to."

"Why would _they_ fight for _our_ right to return home?" Buttercup demanded, glowering. "They're the ones who—"

"They know what they did," Belle calmly interjected, "and they know what they did was wrong. This is their way of trying to make it right."

"I don't believe we're in need of their assistance," Blossom said, pointedly no longer looking in their direction. "The only people they've ever been interested in benefiting are themselves." Brick hung his head at that.

"Well, they've agreed to help us –and you by proxy– out of the goodness of their hearts," Beaux said. "And now that we're all on the same page about what needs to be done to get our lives back in order, here's how we'll begin to accomplish that." The room darkened and multiple holographic projectors converged to present a lifelike render of a person. "First order of business– find Blaze and bring him back here. As you can see, he's pretty easy to differentiate from regular people."

"Uh, _yeah_ ," Butch agreed. The little readout that appeared next to his rotating image listed his height as 84 inches. "Is he seriously seven feet tall?"

"He's always been bigger than the rest of us," Bliss remarked. "He finally stopped growing a few years ago."

The others studied his digital image in silence; they were essentially going to track down a giant, which shouldn't be too difficult in theory. Blaze's muscular physique put Butch's to shame and his other distinguishing feature came in the form of orange eyes that appeared preternaturally vivid against his deep sepia skin tone. Blossom committed every detail to memory, tilting her head when she got to a header reading "Known Abilities". "What is reactive adaptation?" she questioned.

Beaux grinned. "Blaze is mostly indestructible but in a unique way. When we were kids, we thought he was just invulnerable to external forces. Nothing could break his skin until he got shot, but he healed himself and was just fine. Then we thought he was immune to everything except large-caliber bullets, Dow ammo notwithstanding, so after we settled down in the French countryside I borrowed some guns from this retired paratrooper to learn what hurt Blaze and what didn't—"

Bubbles gasped. "You _shot_ your own brother?"

"For science!" he proclaimed. "I did it to see what kind of body armor we had to get to protect him. Turned out he didn't need it because every round I fired at him bounced right off, including a fifty-cal! We tested all kinds of things against him, even our own powers, but if they hurt him at first, after a while they'd have no effect. So we determined that his skin has adaptive immunity to external forces. When Blaze reacts to something he hasn't encountered before, he adapts to resist it from then on."

"Except…" came Belle's soft voice, "his eyes are his weak point. They are not invulnerable to outside objects. The scientists who used to do tests on us took blood samples from the corners of his eyes."

"With, like, a _needle?_ " She nodded and Butch shuddered.

"It was an unpleasant part of our past," Bliss said, "but moving on." She waited for Beaux to bring up a list of buildings. "These are all the science labs, testing facilities, and chemical factories Maximilian owns. Blaze went to do recon on the factory in China. Our best guess is that he's being held at the corresponding laboratory in Shenzhen, but he could have been taken to the nearby ones in Japan, India, or Siberia." She stood before the group. "We're going to form four teams to investigate these locations. I would like Boomer to accompany Belle—"

"Not happening," the blond boy cut in. His arm tightened around Bubbles' shoulders as she buried her face in his shirt. "I'm never leaving her again."

Bliss huffed. "All right, you and _Bubbles_ can head to Japan together. Brick and Buttercup will invest—"

" _Fuck_ no," Buttercup declared, earning a hard look from Bliss for interrupting her yet again. "I'm not going anywhere with that backstabbing bastard."

"Fine, you and _I_ will investigate the Indian laboratory." Buttercup made a sound agreement. "Blossom, do you have any reservations about going to Russia with Belle?" The redheaded girl shook her head once. "Then that leaves Brick and Butch with the Chinese lab."

Boomer gestured to Beaux. "You forgot him."

"No she didn't," he returned. "I won't be joining you. I can't fly."

"Really?"

"Really, and it sucks, and I'm no longer bitter about it, but you still don't have to rub it in." He half-smiled. "I can only glide. My place is here, though. I'll be keeping an eye on all of you while you're in the field." Beaux held up a finger. "Which brings me to phase two– outfit all of us with protective gear so we don't die." The Puffs looked grim. "When you return, I want to scan your physical dimensions into my computer so I can start rendering and printing armor. It's a cermet composite I came up with that'll keep us safe from Antix and Dow rounds."

"Right… When word reaches Maximilian that we destroyed his East Asian facilities, he'll realize we're all working together and dispatch his mercenaries to deter us." Bliss paused as projections of sleek guns filled the room. "His private army is called Clarent. The ranks are comprised of highly trained personnel outfitted with exclusive weaponry. These are the current models the soldiers carry. Memorize them so you can take extra caution."

Brick's brow furrowed as he read the specs. "Are these new on the market? We were mercenaries ourselves for a long time and I've never seen firearms like these." He ignored the sidelong glares from Buttercup and Blossom.

Beaux gestured flippantly. "Yes and no. The history of these weapons ties into the history of the W and X compounds. Professors Newtronium and Utonium initially synthesized Chemical W as a cure for neurological diseases. Two decades later, Kew causes brain aneurysms within one minute after entering the bloodstream. These guns are all based off the first Kew-firing model. Antidote W is derived from the same formula as Chemical X, because I was a fucking moron who took Professor Utonium's research and gave it to Newtronium without considering the consequences." Blossom's lips parted in disbelief. "They both contain nanites that degrade after fulfilling their programming. Dow makes normal people high when it's cold. When it gets hot like after being fired from one of these weird-looking guns, the nanites eat through whatever biological material they come into contact with. Chemix is very similar. At cooler temperatures it functions as a hallucinogen, but once heated its nanites induce rapid, unpredictable mutations on the genetic level."

Bubbles cringed at the accompanying images. "That's horrible. The thing that made us is out there being used to turn people into monsters before they die. Why would Mr. Morbucks sell something like that?"

"Because it's profitable," Bliss answered. "He doesn't care who he hurts or how as long as he can make money off humanity's desire to kill other humans. It's the oldest business in history."

"The good thing is you six are immune to Chemix," Beaux went on, "and so are we to an extent. They'd have to empty multiple mags into one of us for it to have an effect. I'd like to run the same tests on you but with Kew and Dow to determine your tolerance levels… with your permission, of course."

The Puffs exchanged uncertain glances. "Are the tests invasive?" Blossom questioned.

"I do skin pricks, like for allergies," he explained. "Purely topical." He received nods of consent. "What about you guys?"

Boomer also nodded, Brick just grunted, and Butch said, "As long as I can't see the needle."

"You're good unless your head can do a one-eighty." Butch snorted. "So that brings us to the newest weapon in the arsenal, Antix. Morbucks has his factories cranking out as much of this shit as possible, and there are currently two kinds of ammunition. One is a small and light dart-type delivery system for incapacitating the Powerpuff Girls with minimal damage. The other is this nasty hollow-point round for blowing big holes in Rowdyruff Boy heads." Beaux let the footage of the munitions testing run so they could see what they'd be up against. "Looks fun, eh?"

"Nothin' like that's gonna get through my shield," Butch stated.

" _We_ don't have shields, dumbass," Boomer chided.

"No worries, Bro. I always got your backs!"

"And you'll have the armor, which we have time to start on today," Bliss said.

Brick hummed. "I think we'll be fine without it while retrieving Blaze. If those four types of ammo only work with Max's proprietary weapons, and the labs we're going to check out are protected by standard security forces, then there's nothing to worry about."

"Excuse me," Blossom said, stepping forward, "the Rowdyruff Boys may be equipped for this sort of thing but _we_ certainly are not. We don't have… tactical gear or anything." She never expected those two words to come out of her mouth.

Bliss smiled. "Oh, that's no problem. You three can browse our catalogue and choose whatever you want to wear."

"Your… catalogue?"

"Indeed." Beaux dismissed all the images to summon a long list of categories ranging from headgear to footwear. "Everything you'll find here was designed by us to endure superhuman wear and tear. Normal clothes don't hold up in our daily lives. Have you ever flown at lightspeed in a cheap polyester shirt? Bliss has. It disintegrated."

"Thank god for invisibility," she commented.

Beaux looked thoughtful. "I think I'll reorder the steps now. First we'll get the testing and bioscanning out of the way, then get you all outfitted –better safe than sorry, you know?– _then_ go get Blaze and start blowing up Morbucks' shit. And after waiting to see how he moves, we'll organize strikes against his facilities until he has no more sources of income."

"And then?" Buttercup pressed.

"Then I'll distribute his wealth to the world, then we can all return to Townsville and start by having him prosecuted for running a monopoly, kidnapping you, and stealing Professor Utonium's intellectual property. By which I mean that new Chemical Y, not you Girls."

"What about Joan?" Belle asked in a small voice.

Her brother's lips turned down. "She'll probably be sent to prison once she no longer has the Morbucks' financial shield to hide behind."

"…How should we handle the SDC?" Bliss also questioned. Beaux didn't have an answer for her right away.

Blossom was curious. "Did something happen between you and the Scientific Discovery Council?"

"Yes. They desired to detain us indefinitely after our existence became known to the public."

"Some of the members wanted to kill us," Beaux added. "They were afraid of us, didn't want us to walk free. Of course we escaped… with the aid of Professor Utonium." He smiled at the Puffs' surprised expressions. "He's a good man. After getting settled in Paris, I erased any and all data about us from existence. It took a while since my powers were still developing to the point where I could connect to signals other than the internet, but that's why there's no trace of us. Newtronium and Morbucks want nothing more than to get their hands on us again, _and_ you Puffs, but as for the Rowdyruff Boys…" He quirked an eyebrow at them. "You abandoned your creator because you got _bored_. The fact that you've never been reliant on anyone but yourselves makes you dangerous, and that's why our enemies won't hesitate to eliminate you. They fear what they can't control."

Brick allowed himself a small smile. "That's nothing new."

Blossom volunteered to go first for the bioscan. All she had to do was stand still for a few seconds as Beaux's computer rendered a 3D model of her. She was trying to stay focused and not geek out over his homemade setup including the private servers. It had no peripherals because _he_ was the peripheral, manipulating multiple programs and sorting various sets of data without even having to be unconscious. As she waited for her sisters to finish their scans followed by the Boys, she poked around one of the touchscreen consoles to see what else she could learn. She had only met Beaux and his sisters a week ago but she already respected and trusted them, though Buttercup had been quick to label them "rebels without a cause". Their predecessors hadn't been able to return to Townsville for at least eighteen years; how would Powerpuff involvement suddenly change that? There was nothing they could do that Bliss, Belle, Beaux, and Blaze couldn't do themselves. They had deadlier powers, they were older and more experienced, and they had _resources_. The only person the Puffs had on the outside was the Professor, and they weren't so naïve as to believe he wasn't being surveilled by Maximilian.

"Searching for something?" Bliss inquired, making Blossom jump. "Take your time with the console. Browse our entire database, if you want. We don't believe in withholding information from you."

"Beaux…" Bliss raised an eyebrow when she trailed off. "Did he really steal our father's research for that woman who created you?"

"Yes. It's Beaux's fault that Newtronium was able to develop Antidote W."

Blossom faced her. "And you're not mad at him? You don't… resent him?"

"No. We were only eight years old at the time and looking for a way out after we realized Maximilian wanted to use us to hurt people. Newtronium said she could make it so he wouldn't want us any more, so Beaux did what she asked." Bliss tossed her brother a rueful smile. "We can't resent him for an error in judgment he made when we were so young."

"But what if he made it when you were older? What if he was mostly aware of Newtronium's intentions except for one piece of information that he refused to ask for, and his choice to help her got all of you hurt?" Blossom unfurled the fist she'd formed. "Would you still forgive him in that case?"

Bliss mulled it over. "I'd be angry with him for doing something so selfish and not considering the potential consequences, but… If he realized he made a mistake and admitted it, and strove to prove that I could trust him again, I'd forgive him. He's my brother, the only one of him there is." With a kind smile she left Blossom to her own devices, her sisters coming to stand at either side of her.

"Beaux said drones will drop off the stuff we picked out in a few hours," Buttercup relayed. Their progenitors had their own little automated factory on the other side of the island stocked with raw clothing materials, which was pretty neat.

"Do you… wanna get some training in?" Bubbles offered. "I mean, it's been a while since you really used your powers." Blossom hummed in agreement. Townsville had not required the constant vigil of three superheroes after some time, so with the city and populace safe, she had focused on consuming fuel for her voracious mind. Her sisters were in much better fighting shape than her due to preventing petty crime and the occasional serious mishap, but they were all about to go up against a powerful oligarch armed with weapons made specifically to combat them. If Blossom was going to fight for something again, she couldn't think of a more just cause than her right to return home and live in peace with her family.

Bubbles and Blossom headed to the boxing ring to begin sparring, Bliss observing with the notion of lending some of the techniques at her disposal. Brick and Boomer were first to endure the skin prick tests with Kew and Dow. "It tingles," the blond boy remarked. Beaux made a note of that.

When Belle's needle broke Brick's skin, the liquid on the end of it evaporated instantly. She tried increasingly-concentrated samples but they too turned to steam. _"Interesting,"_ she thought to her brother.

_"What is?"_

_"Brick may be capable of nullifying both W compounds."_

_"That is interesting,"_ Beaux agreed, sending Boomer on his way and motioning for Butch to take his place in their compact medical bay. "Brick, may we have a sample of your blood?"

"What for?" he asked.

"Belle just dosed you with enough Antidote W to kill all of us at once and it didn't survive two seconds against you. Whatever part of your immune system is primarily responsible, it'll be more concentrated in your blood. If we can isolate that factor, we might be able to derive a fast-acting method to purge Dow from our systems if we get hit."

Brick sighed in resignation and held out his arm. "Take it."

While Beaux opened a fresh syringe, Belle lifted Butch's sleeveless hoodie and dipped her needle into a vial of Kew. She faltered as he sucked his teeth, sensing his anxiety. Boomer noticed his brother's reaction and rolled his eyes, sticking out his hand. Butch gripped it tightly and Boomer gave the girl a nod to proceed. He flinched with each prick, repressed memories rising up and seeping into Belle. She saw a darkened laboratory through his eyes, the details obscured by shadows, and she felt sharp pinches all over his body as needles injected him with so much Chemical X and hormones that his muscles spasmed, twitched, and jerked like a marionette. His puppeteer was named Him. "I am finished," she said, placing a soft hand on his back. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"Talk 'bout what?" Butch yanked his hoodie down and walked off.

Belle frowned while removing her latex gloves, watching Brick sit stonily as Beaux filled the syringe with his blood. Him's name existed in his subconscious as well, but not her brother's. That could either mean the person lived off the grid and lacked a digital footprint… or they had nefarious motivations to hide. Judging by the sense memories Belle felt from Butch, the latter was more likely. But would it do any good to dredge up something buried so deep in their past?

While her sisters sparred and everyone went around completing their own tasks before the mission, Buttercup headed up to the roof to watch for the drones. Sometime later the hatch opened again and she cut her eyes at Boomer, who gave her a wide berth. He didn't say anything but his presence still irked her to no end. Buttercup had been right about the Ruffs all along: they couldn't be trusted. Her sisters were so stupid for believing they had changed, and she was even stupider for letting them convince her. She was such an idiot for thinking they could ever be friends. Brick and his insufferable holier-than-thou attitude. Boomer and his insufferable innocent façade. Butch and his insufferable everything. Buttercup would gladly endure another year of harassment from Joey Finkelmeyer if she never had to look at the three of them again.

Unfortunately she was stuck with them for the time being. A loud buzzing filled her ears and she stood as three large drones approached, releasing metal crates in a drop-off area indicated with fluorescent paint, then they disappeared among the cityscape. Buttercup picked up two of the crates and glared when Boomer reached for the third. "I don't need your help," she spat.

He faltered. "But people are staring at us."

She glanced at the harbor below. Homebase was not a tall building and everyone in the vicinity could see them standing on the roof. Bliss and Belle had informed the Puffs that they wanted to remain as inconspicuous as possible, so they didn't use their powers in public; no flying or super strength or anything. Seeing a teenage girl lift three heavy metal boxes would definitely tip off the bystanders. With a scoff Buttercup left the third crate for Boomer and kicked the hatch open, descending to the first story. "Got our shit," she announced. "Can't imagine the civilians aren't suspicious of you guys."

"I use those drones to run a legitimate airdrop shipping business," Beaux said from his computer. "That's why no one questions my comms equipment or the blackout windows."

"Very clever," Blossom remarked. The Puffs took their new gear and went upstairs to change, returning shortly.

Boomer grinned and picked up Bubbles to spin her in a circle, earning a giggle. "You look ready to kick some ass, Sugar."

Buttercup tutted. "Except that miniskirt has no combat merit."

"It's not a _miniskirt_ ," Bubbles refuted, "it's a pocket belt!"

"It has ruffles. It's a miniskirt." Blossom had opted for a pocket belt of the canvas variety. Buttercup went with a utility belt-hip bag combination over moto jeans, and she wore a thermal shirt beneath the coolest jacket of all time, a cropped-front leather duster with a hood. Her sisters had gloves but her hands were bare; she didn't want to dampen the sensation of obliterating objects with her fists. Her knee-high boots were steel toe with a steel plate in the shin. Since Blossom was flying to Siberia, she sensibly dressed herself in a warm sweater, fleece leggings, and boots as well. Bubbles was prepared for Japan's humidity in a sky blue tank top and khaki shorts.

The 3D printer spat out their body armor in short order. It was crude and lacked ornamentation, but it would protect their vital organs in the unlikely event they encountered Clarent personnel at the laboratories. Bliss beamed at the Puffs and Ruffs. "We have one more present for you before we head out." She removed a pair of pseudo-sunglasses from a rack on the wall. "These visors are integrated with long-range communication features so we can hear each other no matter where in the world we are. They also contain a simple HUD to relay environmental factors such as temperature, elevation, and your global position. They have a night vision mode, but we won't need it in broad daylight." Once everyone had them on, Beaux activated a hidden set of stairs in the floor. "This utility tunnel will lead us to an area where we can take off without being noticed. It's narrow so we have to go single-file."

"Be safe," Beaux said in parting, sealing the tunnel entrance once Brick was the last to leave. He cracked his knuckles, reclined his chair, and closed his eyes, tuning into the frequency emitted by his roof antenna. "Okay Boys and Girls," he uttered, "time to show us what you've got."

* * *

Brick and Butch retreated to a nearby skyscraper to observe the flaming wreckage of the laboratory in Shenzhen. "No Blaze here," Butch informed his allies. "Got anything, Blue Angel?"

"That's a negative, Green Machine," Boomer replied. "Some dumbass tazed Bubbles, though. She reversed the charge against him. It was hilarious." His brothers heard the faint sound of crackling and buzzing in the background.

"Your call signs are stupid," Buttercup commented.

"Nobody asked you," Brick said.

"Let me guess, you're 'Red Leader'." She cackled at his silence.

"Focus, Buttercup." Bliss moved close to her to generate a cloak. "We're going to do a silent sweep of this lab to see if they're holding Blaze anywhere."

"Why not just blow the whole thing to hell?"

"Because if the scientists have weakened Blaze with Dow in order to torture him for information, he'll be susceptible to our attacks," Bliss explained. "We might inadvertently harm him."

"…Didn't think 'bout that," Butch spoke after a beat.

"Neither did we." Bubbles sounded guilty.

"No, you didn't. It's a good thing Blaze is resilient." The girls found a vacant information desk and Bliss did a quick keyword search. This particular lab was working to stabilize the newly-developed Chemical Y, and there was no mention of human test subjects or an outgoing message to Maximilian that they'd captured a superhuman. Just to make doubly sure, they snuck into the security room and incapacitated the single guard to check the video footage. "He's not here. Now we can reduce this place to rubble." With a grin Buttercup planted her hand on the wall and generated a vibration that brought the building crumbling down as if a violent earthquake had struck, she and Bliss leaving the scene while panic ensued in their wake. It felt good to break something, even better that she was sticking it to Mr. Morbucks.

Blossom hovered beside Belle while snowflakes gently fell around them. They were still fifty miles from the Siberian laboratory, using the clouds to cover their approach. She wondered why Belle had stopped without warning until she sensed a wave of nervousness. "Blossom and I have located Blaze," the older girl informed their allies. "However, we face strong opposition."

"Clarent?" Bliss asked.

"Yes, there are precisely ten soldiers armed with Dow." She paused. "There is also a psion among their ranks."

"Have they sensed you?"

"Yes, but not Blossom. I have claimed his full attention."

"What should we do?" the redhead inquired of her partner. Everyone else caught the tremor in her tone.

 _"We will advance,"_ Belle answered telepathically. _"Please turn off your communicator."_ Blossom hesitantly pressed the button to sever the connection.

"Hey!" Bliss shouted into her sister's ear, "Belle, don't you dare! We'll come help, just give us your coordinates!" No response. "Dammit!"

"The fuck's goin' on?" Butch inquired. "They okay? They need backup?"

"Belle cut us off to protect us from the other psion," Bliss replied, pacing in a small circle. "Psions are people born with natural psychic powers, problem children Maximilian appropriates in exchange for monetary compensation. A woman named Doctor Jessica Byers grooms them for use as psionic soldiers. Most of them aren't nearly as strong as Belle, but telepaths are problematic because they can relay our movements to their units." She made a frustrated noise. "If I know my sister, Belle is going to attract the attention of the mercenaries so Blossom can get to Blaze."

"Will Blossom be okay?" Bubbles asked. Boomer squeezed her hand as reassurance.

"Most likely. She said the mercs were armed with Dow, not Antix." Bliss stopped pacing to exhale. "I'm sure the Siberian climate will work to Blossom's advantage, too."

Blossom was in fact able to freeze solid the security guards she encountered with a mere puff of air, stunning herself; it had been so long since she used her ice breath for anything other than recreational purposes. She tried to ignore all the gunfire from the other side of the building as the Clarent mercenaries attempted to shoot Belle out of the sky, but took some solace in the fact that they only seemed to be exhausting their ammunition. The lobby was dark and cold, questionable fluids decorated the floor, and yellow lights cast erratic shadows. She'd made it inside but her heartbeat was so loud that it drowned out the steps she repeated to herself for finding Blaze.

She drifted down a long hallway, her anxiety ratcheting up another notch when she noticed scratches and deep gouges along the wall. A door flew open in front of her and she yelped, earning the instant attention of a man with a pistol in hand. He fired five rounds that bounced harmlessly off her body plate, then he paused in confusion. Blossom took advantage of the moment to punch him, knocking him back into the room where he didn't move. She spared her attacker a glance before studying the row of monitors. In a room labeled S-3 she saw a massive man lying on a table with what looked like an optometry device situated above his head. There was no mistaking Blaze for anyone else.

Blossom flew faster down the hallway until reaching a junction, following a stenciled S to the left. She threw open multiple sets of double doors, uncaring if she made a racket since she was now fueled by single-minded determination. She entered a brighter corridor, paint and tiles more reminiscent of a proper hospital. S-1, S-2… S-3. The room had no windows so she was caught off-guard by two more armed men who emptied their entire magazines into her. Blossom kicked one in the stomach and slammed the other against the wall, not noticing the indent he left in the brickwork. She turned to Blaze and felt her gut wrench upon taking in his condition. Speculums held his eyes open as the device dispensed drops of white Antidote W every few seconds. They were severely bloodshot, he wasn't moving, and both of his arms were littered with swollen, bloody injection sites. Infected, paralyzed, and only clothed in underwear… How would he survive outside like this?

Blossom shoved the machine away from his face, hearing it clatter against the counter. She then gently removed the speculums, his lids falling shut. "Blaze?" she spoke, "Are you conscious? Can you hear me?" She recoiled with a shriek as his eyes popped back open and he leapt off the table, flinging himself against the opposite wall.

"Don't touch me!" he bellowed. "Stay away or I'll… I'll kill you! I'll kill _all_ of you!"

She raised her hands in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you! I came to rescue you with Belle!"

His expression shifted to one of disbelief. "B-Belle?" he stammered. "Belle? Belle?" His head whipped around. "Where's Belle? You're not Belle. Where is she?" The next instant he had bridged the distance between them, Blossom's eyes going wide as his huge hand closed around her throat. "If you hurt Belle I'll _end_ you," he growled.

She tried in vain to pull on his arm, gasping uselessly as the pressure on her windpipe increased. "B… B… Blaze…" she managed to get out, his grip loosening.

"You know my real name?" Blossom couldn't nod, lifting her chin instead. With a groan Blaze released her and slumped against the table, his rush of adrenaline spent. Blossom fell to her hands and knees, coughing. "Who… are you?" he asked.

"Blossom… my name is Blossom." She breathed deeply before looking up at him. "I'm a Powerpuff Girl."

"I've heard of… Powerpuffs." His mind was too cloudy to think clearly. His body ached all over and his arms were on fire, infection burning in his veins. "Belle… you said Belle. Where is she?"

"Outside," Blossom answered. "She's fighting. I'm getting you out of here." Her strength restored, she drew herself up and hovered above the floor.

"You're super?" Blaze gaped at her. "You can fly?"

She smiled. "And breathe ice."

"Whoa." Blossom's laugh put him at ease. She sounded sweet, not like another doctor or nurse come to hurt him. "I… can't fly," Blaze lamented.

"I'll carry you," she said, like it wasn't an option. That decisiveness reminded him of Bliss. Blaze draped an arm across her shoulders. He was heavy even with her super strength; Blossom wondered if Chemical W had affected his bone and muscle density. She wrapped one arm around his back, barely reaching his waist, and splayed her other hand across his broad chest to hold him securely. She nudged the door open with her foot and drifted out into the hall, finally taking notice of how deathly silent the building was. They encountered no opposition on their way out.

Blossom set Blaze down in a chair that protested his bulk while she sought any sort of garment to protect him from the cold. Although… he wasn't shivering and his extremities didn't show any symptoms of frostbite. Did his adaptive immunity help him resist these subarctic temperatures? If she moved quickly, they would return to the tropical climate of Singapore soon enough. Blossom picked him back up and flew outside where Blaze faced right. "Belle!"

A trail of bodies had followed her around the building, all of them lying on the ground like they were simply asleep. Belle breathed hard as she hovered above a corpse whose splattered brain stained the snow a violent red. The sight made Blossom's stomach churn; that must have been the psion. With a smile Belle placed a delicate hand on her brother's cheek. They didn't exchange any words, but they didn't need to when Blaze could sense her relief and gratitude. She turned her communicator back on. "Blaze has been secured. There are no injuries to report. The three of us are returning to Homebase." Too much chatter entered Blossom's ear for her to separate her sisters' inquiries from the Ruffs', so she ignored them all as Belle supported the other half of Blaze and he passed out between them. _"Thank you,"_ she thought to Blossom after a minute.

 _"You don't need to thank me,"_ she replied. _"Saving people is what I… do."_ She could no longer use past-tense. She was a superhero again.

A knowing smile turned Belle's lips. _"Saving you is what the Rowdyruff Boys tried to do, too."_ She read Blossom's next thought before it finished forming. _"They didn't locate Maximilian's secret laboratory and voluntarily take Antidote X just to gloat when they saw you. They truly didn't know."_

Maybe Belle was starting to convince Blossom that the Boys' reaction to seeing them in that tiny room wasn't an act. Butch's shock, Boomer's outrage, and the way Brick had just… shut down were genuine emotions they experienced in response to learning how Maximilian intended to use the Powerpuff Girls, how he'd violated them just before their arrival. But it was still their fault Blossom and her sisters had been dehumanized, like they were toys for the scientists to play with. Dolls to redress and pose and inject and shear. Dummies to hit and burn and electrocute and stress test. Incubators whose value depended on reproductive cells they didn't even have.

They had suffered because the Ruffs chose to be ignorant. How was Blossom supposed to forgive them for that?


	3. What You Had and What You Have

Blossom and Belle situated Blaze on the bed in the medical bay. Beaux saw everything that had happened through their visors, so he was prepared to flush the Dow from his brother's system before they returned. He and Belle went about their task in silence; combining his extensive knowledge base with her telepathy made them one hell of an efficient duo. Blaze's blood ran through a hemopurifier while a small dose of Chemical W kickstarted his innate regenerative abilities and healed his external wounds. "Will Blaze be okay?" Blossom questioned once Beaux trashed his gloves.

"Indeed, thanks to you," he answered. "When he's recovered you can all meet him properly. We finished everything on the agenda today, except…" Beaux pointed at the Rowdyruffs. "I need to talk to you three. Girls, feel free to head back to your hotel and relax." They promptly left, Bubbles flashing Boomer a little smile. Once the front door sealed behind them, Beaux dropped into his computer chair and narrowly regarded the Boys. "You were embarrassingly sloppy today. Is that how you handle retrieval missions? Don't answer that– I've watched how you work your whole lives. What the fuck were you thinking? Don't answer that either– I know you weren't thinking. You just wanted to destroy stuff and blow off some steam."

Boomer scuffed the floor with his boot. "Do you want us to apologize?"

"No, I want you to get serious," Beaux replied. "I'm sorry we can't make the Powerpuffs like you again, but you're going to have plenty of opportunities to prove they can trust you. You have to prove it to us, too. We just made the first move in the war against a global empire. We can't afford for you to rush in without thinking again. Your actions now have consequences that affect _all_ of us. Your thoughtlessness could have gotten my brother killed."

Brick ducked his chin in acceptance of the critique. "It won't happen again."

"I know it won't." Beaux let out a sigh. "Watching you use your powers in real-time gave me some ideas for improving synergy and function. I'll have specialized gear ready for you tomorrow." He waved them away.

Outside, Butch rubbed the back of his neck. "Man, I thought Beaux'd be chill, but he's really a hardass!"

"He _is_ right, though," Brick said. "There are lives other than our own at stake now, so we have to be conscientious and cooperative. No more refusing team assignments, Boomer."

"Oh, so it's _my_ fault we got chewed out on our first day 'cause I didn't wanna go with Belle?"

"Did I say that?" They scowled at one another. "I know you love Bubbles," Brick went on, "I get it, really. You want to stay by her side and protect her through all this shit. But your powers are too similar and Bliss wanted to separate you for efficiency. I would've done the same."

Boomer sneered. "Right, you'd keep us apart for _efficiency_ and not because you're jealous that Bubbles still loves me. She _trusts_ me. 'Cause it wasn't _my_ idea to go off on my own and finish the job for Max. I'm not the one who got them _vivisected_."

"Shut up, Bro." Butch gave Boomer a not-so-nice shove off the sidewalk where a passing car honked and swerved to avoid him. "It's all our fault."

"No, it's mine," Brick asserted. He'd been the man with the plan and the decision-maker their whole lives, but now… Now he wanted to let someone else be in charge so he didn't have to _think_ so goddamn much, just do whatever was requested of him to help everyone advance toward their goal. He wouldn't question his orders and he'd carry them out to perfection, exactly how Him had conditioned him.

Back in his suite, Boomer took a shower, ordered room service, and picked at his food while the TV provided background noise. He groaned and abandoned his fork. He wanted something sweet, like ice cream or a milkshake or tiramisu, which he doubted he could find in Singapore. The one Blossom made for him had been amazing, but there was no chance he'd ever get to eat it again unless Bubbles could make it just as well.

A light knock came at the door and Boomer peered through the peephole, just about ripping it off the hinges. "Hi," Bubbles greeted, looking rather bashful. "You busy?"

"Uh, no, I'm not doing anything. Tried eating dinner but… not hungry." He noticed the plastic cup in her hand. "What'd you get?"

"Milk tea. Passed a shop on the way here."

Boomer moved aside to let her in. "How'd you find me?"

Bubbles shrugged. "X-ray vision! I know we're not supposed to use our powers in public, so I went up to the roof of our hotel to look around."

"Guess we could've told each other where we were staying," he mused.

"My sisters don't want me to tell you. They don't want your brothers trying to, like, apologize or something." She huffed. "It's stupid. They act like they're gonna hold grudges forever."

Boomer's smile contained more than a trace of guilt. "Wouldn't hold it against them if they did… or if _you_ did." Bubbles raised an eyebrow. "What you went through, what Morbucks did to you… I wouldn't exactly be in a forgiving mood if I'd been in your shoes."

"He didn't hurt us himself, it was only his scientists," Bubbles said. "Professor Newtronium always explained what she was doing to us, but that didn't really make it better." And trying to downplay her experience didn't make her feel better, either.

He brushed her arms, voice soft. "You wanna talk about it?" She nodded so they sat on the foot of his bed.

Now that someone was listening attentively, she found it difficult to tell the story. Being the emotional sponge had always been _her_ role; it felt strange to do the talking for once. "We had just sat down for dinner," she began, "and I was telling the Professor about the ideas you and I came up with for your loft. I couldn't wait to see it. I was going to fly over as soon as I did the dishes, but then…" Bubbles wrung her hands in her lap. "The doorbell rang and Buttercup answered it. We all heard her say 'what the eff' followed by a popping noise, kinda like an airsoft gun. But then she fell backwards with a dart in her neck. We were, like, shocked. Mr. Morbucks came into our house with armed guys following him, and he sat at the table like he was gonna eat with us."

"He's such an entitled prick," Boomer muttered.

Bubbles nodded idly. "He said something like that, too, how he took over Mrs. Carrington's investments so he's entitled to the intellectual property of the Professor's research group. He had a bunch of papers and forms to prove it– Blossom checked them out. She said there was no way we'd go with him to his facility, but then he… he had one of his guys aim at the Professor. He said they hadn't started testing Antix on regular people, but the Professor could be the first subject."

"Fucking asshole, threatening your dad…"

Again her head bobbed in idle agreement, and her voice wavered as she continued. "We were introduced to Professor Newtronium at the facility. She dosed us with Antix before telling us to strip, then a bunch of other scientists measured us."

"Measured?" Boomer echoed.

"Yeah, like our height, weight, BMI, around our arms and legs and stuff. No one spoke or anything so it was really weird. It kinda made me feel like… a doll. Like they'd play with me till I broke." Boomer's teeth clenched as tears welled up in Bubbles' eyes. "That was the beginning of the first day. They took us to exam rooms and strapped us to tables… poking and cutting us to get skin and blood samples. Then they burned and shocked us, and they put us in tanks to see how long we could hold our breaths, how much pressure we could withstand, and they tested a bunch of different chemicals on us…"

Boomer embraced her in a tight hug. The dam she had built to restrain her emotions failed, flooding his neck and shoulder. He didn't understand why she wasn't as royally pissed off as him. "That wasn't it, right?" he prompted. "Didn't they do something right before we found you?"

Her breath hitched and she pulled back, looking down at the comforter. He saw shame and inadequacy swimming in her irises once again. "I-I told you…" she sniffled, "they wanted our eggs but we d-don't have any. But we didn't know what they were after when we went into the room. Only after they… drugged us and… cut us open, the scientists looked confused and… Newtronium was really upset…"

"Fuck her," Boomer growled. "You shouldn't give a flying fuck what she thinks."

"But what about _you?!_ " Bubbles all but screamed. "Don't you care that I can't have kids?! I'll never be a real woman! We'll never…" Her words were nearly inaudible. "We'll never be able to have a family, Boomer."

"I don't give a _shit_ about that right now, Bubbles!" he exclaimed. "I care about _you!_ I want you to feel _safe!_ " Boomer tried holding her gaze but she kept glancing off to the side, like she wasn't going to stop shaming herself. Fuck society for making Bubbles believe he would no longer love her for being unable to bear his children, like popping out babies was the sole purpose of being in a relationship. Like her worth as a human being depended on her ability to reproduce. _Fuck that._

She cried until practically soaking him to the bone. Boomer wiped away the remnants of her tears, kissed her forehead, and spoke in a calm tone. "It's kinda flattering that you've thought about having kids with me." A shy smile appeared beneath her misty eyes. "I'm not ready to be a dad yet, though. There's still some things I wanna do."

Bubbles' cheeks flushed even more. "I wasn't trying to… I mean, this wasn't really the time I wanted to bring it up. I just thought that maybe in the future, if we're still together, after school and college or whatever, if we had a home and were happy and financially secure…"

She trailed off, mumbling, and Boomer smiled gently. "Kids would be great."

"But I can't have them." Saying it with such finality made her heart ache.

"Even if you could, I still couldn't." She gave him a quizzical look. "Me and my brothers are sterile," he said.

"You are?!"

"Yep. Found out after this girl tried claiming Butch was the father of her baby. She was kind of, uhh, _liberal_ and had a bunch of guys take paternity tests. Butch was sterile, so me and Brick got tested, too. Must be a Chemical X thing."

Bubbles felt marginally better about that, now knowing it wouldn't be solely her fault if they never had this conversation and got to the point where they tried and failed to start a family because of inherent biological shortcomings. "I've always sorta known it was impossible," she admitted. "I mean, the Professor had to invent another compound to help us mature and grow, and we never got periods which kinda proves the point, but still… Seeing how confused those scientists were when they couldn't find what they were looking for…"

"Sugar, I'm more upset by the fact that you were _conscious_ when they vivisected you. They tried taking something they have no right to! Doesn't that piss you off?" Her brow furrowed as she considered it, and Boomer exhaled a heated breath. "And don't say you're not a real woman 'cause you can't have babies. Of _course_ you are. You're the most beautiful, talented, compassionate, generous, brilliant woman I know. You do so much for everyone without expecting anything in return." He grew downcast. "Even I just take from you."

"What do you mean?" Bubbles questioned. "You haven't taken anything." Nothing she wasn't willing to give him, anyway.

"I _have_ ," Boomer insisted. "Your home, your friends, the Professor… I took all that away from you by working for Max. You got _tortured_ because of me. So I understand if you haven't really forgiven me, if you want to break up with—"

Quicker than he could follow, a finger landed on his lips to shush him. Bubbles frowned before she grinned. "Silly boy. Don't you know you're one of the only things I have left?" His stunned expression prompted her to kiss him. "I might've lost my home, my friends, and my dad _temporarily_ , but I'm gonna fight to get them back. And you're gonna help me 'cause you lost those things, too."

He could only nod and then stare as Bubbles made herself comfortable, undressing partially since she didn't intend to return to her hotel. They got beneath the covers together, holding hands while lying face to face. "So you're really not mad at me?" Boomer pressed after a protracted silence.

Bubbles shook her head. "Nope."

"And you really wanna have a family with _me_ someday?" She tittered and blushed, which filled him with warm fuzzies. "How many?"

"At least two, so they wouldn't be lonely." She had worked out all the fantastical details long ago.

Boomer squinted at the ceiling. "What would we name them? Follow tradition with B names?"

"Yeah… I sorta have a list." She counted on her fingers. "Bailey, Blaire, Blythe, Billy and Bobby which can both be feminine, Braeden, Brett, Briar, and Brooke."

He wrinkled his nose. "I'm sorry but I'm not naming our theoretical son _Braeden_ or _Brett_. Those are douchey names." She gave a loud laugh. "I like Brooke and Briar, though. What about Basil for a boy?"

"Basil?" Bubbles repeated it a few times with different inflections. "It's cute. We can call him Baz for short."

"I'm gonna let him bang on pots and pans and then get him a drum set when he's old enough," Boomer decided. "Baz Utonium… oh yeah, he's gonna be a rockstar."

"Baz Lucian sounds more rockstar-ish," she pointed out.

Boomer attempted to look serious. "So are you gonna take my name if we get married?"

"Umm…" Of course Bubbles had whimsical notions about marriage, too. She'd already envisioned the venue, the guests, food, music, décor, her dress, and how handsome Boomer would look in his tuxedo. Not to mention she had a mental list of honeymoon destinations. Yet she puzzled over the name thing. There were only four Utoniums in existence and she was proud to have the Professor's surname as her own. It created a familial bond and was just as unique as her forename; she was the only Bubbles Utonium in the history of humanity! But "Lucian" was much easier for people to comprehend, and she admired the Ruffs for choosing a name that bound them together as family. "I was thinking about hyphenating our names," Bubbles said in response to Boomer's query, "or maybe forming a portmanteau."

"What, like Lucionium? Or, uh, Utonian? That sounds kinda cool, actually."

"It does!" she agreed.

They need not concern themselves with marriage, children, or life together in general if they weren't able to reroot in Townsville. Bubbles never considered living anywhere else; it was the stage where all the major events of her life would play out. There had always been an undefined male figure at her side but now she clearly saw Boomer in every role: boyfriend, husband, and father. He was also her mirror for times like this, when he urged her to verbalize all the negativity she kept inside because everyone expected her to embody her namesake. Bubbly Bubbles didn't have insecurities, shortcomings, or mean thoughts about anyone.

Being with Boomer provided an unanticipated sense of freedom. She didn't have to be the perfect girl around him. She could go without makeup, leave her hair a mess, dress like a bum, and eat like a glutton. Spend all day lazing in bed and the whole night having the kind of sex that would scandalize her adoring public. Boomer couldn't use sex to erase her self-doubts, they both knew that, but he briefly banished them by making Bubbles focus on all the things her body could do instead of what it couldn't. He would never, ever condemn or resent her for being infertile. Not only would that be hypocritical of him, he loved her exactly the way she was.

Boomer murmured one last reassuring thing before they fell asleep. "There's always adoption, y'know."

"Oh yeah…" she yawned, "I hadn't thought of that."

"Mhm. They'd still be our kids, our family. And if anyone says otherwise… I'll zap 'em."

Bubbles smiled at the fact that he was just as willing to fight for their imaginary future as their immediate one.

* * *

Bliss called the Ruffs to Homebase earlier than the three of them would have liked; Boomer was especially remiss to leave Bubbles alone in his hotel bed. But their annoyance at getting woken up at eight a.m. gave way to excitement when Bliss presented each of them with plain cardboard boxes. "Beaux isn't one for excessive ornamentation, but he was up all day yesterday and most of the night creating this gear for you," she explained. Inside each box was an outfit consisting of a shirt, pants, boots, and gloves. "So, Brick," she began, "Beaux made your attire out of fireproof materials so you can generate flame from places other than your hands without fear of immolating your clothes. They're woven with refractory metallic fibers to withstand extreme heat."

"Interesting…" he uttered, scrutinizing each piece. Brick appreciated the styling, rich carmine fabric without visible stitching for a sleek appearance. The metallic threads shimmered in colors like black, pewter, and bronze depending on the light. The boots and gloves were much nicer than the ones he currently wore. He decided to test everything right then and there, donning the outfit before igniting a flame in his chest that enveloped his whole body. When it died down, his new uniform remained intact.

"Sweet," Butch commented, "now you can human-torch Max's goons."

Boomer's ensemble suited him perfectly, ultramarine and vivid white colorblocked by ice blue zigzag stitching. "Your garments are made of the least impressive material, polyester," Bliss said to him, "but polyester on skin is one of the best generators of static electricity. Same goes for your gloves and boots. They're made of leather with platinum hardware, so rubbing them together in some fashion will force the materials to exchange electrons."

"Awesome!" After slipping on the gloves he brushed his palm over the rivets to create a spark. "Hey Butch, think fast!"

The paltry bolt of electricity collided with a green barrier, both vanishing. Butch shot Boomer a mean look before investigating the contents of his box. His cyberpunk-inspired outfit was constructed of black canvas, carbon fiber-patterned twill, and neon green piping. He had fingerless gloves just like his brothers, but there were also six metal rings that he held out to Bliss. "What're these bracelets for?" he questioned. He only cared for ear jewelry.

She unfastened the largest cuffs and secured them above his biceps. The medium ones went above his elbows and the smallest ones encircled his wrists. "Even though Beaux has been observing you for years, he hasn't been able to determine how your shield-generating abilities work," Bliss said. "One theory is that you manipulate your own electromagnetic field, which explains why your shields have no mass. Another theory is that it's plasma-based. Plasma is ionized gas, and if you are in fact manipulating electrons comprising atmospheric gases, Boomer's electrical attacks can cause your shield to fail by affecting the charge."

Butch pretended like he understood and glanced at his decorated arms. "So these do what?"

Instead of answering him, Bliss turned to Boomer. "Try zapping your brother again." He obeyed with glee, the bolt arriving too quickly for Butch to form a shield. He lifted his hands in defense instead, and much to everyone's surprise he didn't get shocked. Bliss smiled. "Good, they appear to work. These bands are made of superconductive metal alloys. The thought was that by giving you zero resistance to electricity, you could absorb charges just like you absorb kinetic energy."

"You're basically saying that Beaux negated one of Butch's only known weaknesses," Brick remarked.

Bliss nodded. "That is indeed what I'm saying."

"Cool." Butch planted his hands on his hips in a power pose. "When's the next mission? I wanna test out these bad boys."

"As a matter of fact…" Bliss faced the door just as it opened to reveal Buttercup, who glowered at the Ruffs by default. "Great, you're right on time. Butch, Buttercup, you're going to accompany me to Magadan so we can appropriate the latest shipment of weapons for Clarent."

Ignoring the expression on Buttercup's face, Butch asked, "Where's Magadan?"

"It's a port city on Russia's eastern coast, north of Vladivostok. They're about four hours ahead of us and the shipment is scheduled to leave at fifteen-hundred."

Brick checked his Nervo and quickly did the math. "Isn't giving yourself twenty minutes to be there cutting it a little close?"

"We believe in maintaining the element of surprise," Bliss assured. "Maximilian knows we're gunning for him but not when, where, and how we'll strike. That's our primary advantage."

"I'd say the primary advantage is having superpowers," Buttercup quipped. "Can we get going already?"

"As soon as Butch changes." Without hesitation he stripped off his street clothes and donned the new gear. Bliss blinked at his nearly-nude form before averting her gaze, but it was nothing everyone else hadn't seen.

Within the dark confines of the utility tunnel, Bliss felt rather than saw the hostility Buttercup radiated toward Butch. As they navigated the veins of Singapore a sea green glow began illuminating the walls like phosphorus, her ire manifesting as tangible power. There was no way Butch couldn't also sense it, but he made no comment. Loathing him was part of her healing process.

Bliss poked her head out of a hatch camouflaged among a greenbelt. "All clear," she announced, and the Russia-bound trio entered the clouds. Although Bliss was capable of moving at lightspeed, she seldom did so since it was a jarring, disorienting experience; besides, she didn't want to leave her teammates behind. She led at their typical sonic pace, still feeling Buttercup's exponentially-increasing anger at her back.

"How much farther?" Butch whined, his loud voice cutting through the rush of wind.

"Do you have to be so impatient?" Buttercup snapped.

"What, you ain't excited to beat up some bad guys?"

"There's only three guys I really want to beat up," she returned.

At that, Bliss slowed down and her companions instinctively followed suit. Butch grinned. "Who are they? I'll help ya!"

Buttercup smirked. "The first is this ginger fuck who thinks he's better than everyone else in the world 'cause he's smart and shoots fireballs. But _my_ powers are way more destructive than his, so I need to put him in his place."

Butch hummed. "That guy sounds like an asshole."

She rolled her eyes. "Then there's this little blond white knight wannabe who treats me like a damsel in distress because I held myself back for normal people's sake. I'm not gonna hold anything back when I rearrange his stupid face."

"That dude could do with a good face-rearrangin'." Butch drifted closer. "And the last guy?"

Buttercup's brow knitted and her jaw clenched. "He's a fucking snake. I'd tell him to go join the Gangreen Gang but they already have one." Butch snorted in amusement. "I knew he was scum from the moment we first met and he looked at me like I was a piece of meat. I never should've…"

As she trailed off, Butch made a decision: the bear needed to be poked for her own good. "Hey, Buttercup." She cut her eyes at him and he offered a lurid smirk. "You need to loosen up before this mission. Wanna join the mile high club?"

A warcry reached Bliss's ears and she whipped around to watch Butch and Buttercup plummet to the ground. A crater formed where they landed, sending up a shower of dirt. They grappled for a moment, then Butch broke away. Buttercup tackled him midair and they made a long gouge in the vast, empty landscape. Bliss had expected Buttercup to snap while they flew over Mongolia, the most sparsely-populated country on Earth. She patiently waited for the Greens to have it out.

Buttercup held Butch by the collar of his sleeveless vest, yanking him into her fist while she punctuated every other word with vicious punches. "You're _such_ a fucking _pig!_ I _hate_ you! I _hate_ _you!_ "

Despite the blood and bruises now adorning his features, Butch smiled. "You never hit me this hard during our sparrin' matches." He caught her hand, her enraged expression falling slightly to dismay. "I'm fuckin' insulted, babe." She gasped as he launched her skyward, then gasped again when his knee drove all the air from her lungs. Buttercup fell with a stunned look on her face but quickly righted herself, rocketing toward Butch at a remarkable speed. She grabbed his ankle, spun around several times, and hurled him into the ground.

Butch rose onto his hands and knees and shook his dazed head, but he didn't get the chance to recover as Buttercup came smashing down onto the middle of his back feet-first. He cried out from the overwhelming pain of shattering multiple ribs and vertebrae at once; a normal person would've been paralyzed. Wearing a malicious smile, she lowered her lips to his ear. "What's the problem, Butch? I thought you liked having me on top." He made no retort, focused on the healing sensation of Chemical X. "That all you got? I'm fucking _insulted_."

Now he glowered. "Don't… do that."

"What?"

"Throw my words back at me." He rolled over, breathing deeply now that his lungs were no longer punctured.

Buttercup laughed once. "Then I'll throw _this_." A green barrier stopped her fist. Smirking, she splayed her fingers and emitted resonant waves in the frequency to dispel it. "Quit hiding behind your shield, pussy. Fight me like a man."

"Fine." Butch dropped the shield, grabbed her face with both hands, and kissed her squarely on the lips. Then he flew away for dear life.

"You… fucking… _bastard!_ " Buttercup tore after him, but he kept changing direction so she couldn't catch up. The gleeful chortling that reached her ears enraged her even more. "I'll fucking _kill_ you, Butch!"

"Not if you can't catch— shit!" A laser beam grazed his leg, making him falter. Buttercup barreled into him and they entered a stand of trees. Butch sandwiched himself between two flat shields to avoid both splinters and her fingers attempting to claw his eyes out.

"Looks like I caught myself a piece of shit," she crowed.

He chuckled again. "I fuckin' love you."

 _"Shut up!"_ They bashed through several birches and poplars until Butch lowered his barriers, catching her off-guard. Buttercup knew that was how he fought, erratic and unpredictable because he had zero sense of tactics, but rage blinded her to everything except the desire to reduce him to a bloody, lifeless pulp. After dodging a wild kick Butch twisted her arms behind her back and for a moment they were frozen, floating just above the ground.

"I mean it, y'know." His low, level tone matched the sudden stillness of their surroundings. "I've been crushin' on you since we met at Duke's. I tried tellin' you that night at your welcome back party."

Her cheeks turned an irate red as she wriggled in his grip. "You're so full of shit. You're a _liar_. Everything that comes out of your mouth is fucking _bullshit!_ "

"Usually, but not this time." Butch released her and she whirled to face him. "Said I wouldn't let anyone hurt you anymore and that means me, too. I'm not gonna fight you like this."

Her gaze narrowed. "You're not going to defend yourself?"

"Didn't say that."

That was fine with Buttercup. She continued pressing her attack and used resonance to break his barriers, but they always reformed. Once she gave that up Butch met her hit for hit. He cancelled them out but she seemed to have an infinite well of strength to draw from, or she was just that determined to make every blow the one that would kill him, one powerful offensive strike to overcome his perfect defense.

Hours passed before the fighting ended with the depletion of Chemical X. Buttercup tried a final throw from the atmosphere. Butch alleviated the impact with a shield sphere that dissipated as she landed atop him, unable to sustain flight. "I… hate you," she panted.

He swatted away the ragged fingers reaching for his neck. No way would he allow himself to go out in such a plebeian manner as strangulation. "I'm sorry, okay?"

"For _what?_ " she spat. "Do you even know why I hate your fucking guts?!" She didn't let him answer, slapping him so hard her palm stung. "You _pretended_ to be my friend so you could _sell me_ _out_ to Morbucks!"

Butch cringed. That certainly did seem like the truth of the matter. "I wasn't pretendin'."

Buttercup shook her head almost violently. "Yes you were! You _had_ to be! Friends don't _betray_ each other like that! I can't believe I ever…" He cracked an eye open when he didn't feel another slap. Something small and wet landed on his cheek and it hurt more than all the other blows he'd received. "I _trusted_ you, Butch." Buttercup looked down at him through watery eyes, much more disappointed in herself than him. "I don't know why I thought you'd changed, that you _could_ change. You're a Rowdyruff Boy and you only exist to hurt me. Great fucking job." She rose to her feet on shaky legs and managed to walk away.

Butch lay in the earthy indentation, staring at the sky until Bliss touched down nearby. "Did Buttercup leave you alive?" she inquired.

"She can't kill me," he muttered. "We're equals."

"So I see." She withdrew a Chemix syringe from her coat pocket. "Take this so we can go home."

Butch sat upright and tried finding a vein, but it was too dark to see anything without super vision. Bliss injected it for him and he grunted his thanks, then groaned. "We missed the shipment window, huh?" Leave it to him to botch simple orders.

Bliss gave him an apologetic smile. "There was never a mission. Weapon shipments _are_ being delivered to Clarent, but they don't come from Russia."

"Oh." He put two and two together. "You wanted Buttercup to get everything outta her system?"

"The physical aggression, at least." She offered a hand to help him stand. Within a minute his strength had been restored; he and Bliss slowly ascended to join Buttercup where she waited. They flew in formation back to Singapore, not a word passing between any of them. Bliss knew it wasn't her time to speak and Buttercup had nothing left to say to Butch.

Not that she believed him, but if he really _did_ love her in any capacity, platonically or… something else… that only made his betrayal all the worse.

* * *

Homebase practically frosted over when the three of them returned. Buttercup ripped off her ruined clothing and hurled it into the trash, stabbing at a console to have a drone deliver new garments. Beaux tactfully inserted himself into her browsing of the catalogue to make suggestions about what would be best for fighting in. Since unfettered hand-to-hand combat was her style, she opted for more durable composite materials instead of leather, sacrificing her aesthetic for the time being. Once again she went to the roof to wait; any longer in the Ruff's proximity and things would get glacial.

Boomer had returned to his suite after receiving his new outfit, Butch was also waiting for replacement clothes, and Brick busied himself learning everything about Max's proprietary weapons. He really wanted to hold each model in his hands and inspect them with his own eyes, but the next best thing was to fiddle with holographic projections. They couldn't replicate weight or material sensations, but Brick was able to take each model apart piece by piece and put them back together as well as go through the motions of firing and reloading. Simulations, but effective ones. He was aiming the standard-issue battle rifle at the door when Blossom arrived at 9:00, regarding him in alarm as he lowered the projection. "Sorry," Brick said.

She narrowed her eyes before directing her attention to Beaux, who had asked her to drop by. "I appreciate your punctuality, Blossom." He rolled his chair across the floor to a box adorned with customs stickers. "I took the liberty of ordering Nervos for the rest of us. Here's one for you and two for your sisters. What's Bubbles up to today?"

"She's with Boomer," she tersely replied. Last night Blossom made it very clear what she thought of her youngest sister's ongoing relationship with a Rowdyruff Boy. Bubbles seemed to be willfully ignoring the most recent evidence that proved they could not be trusted, shouldn't have been trusted in the first place. Blossom couldn't comprehend her sister's emotion-based rationale since she had yet to sort out her own feelings. Bubbles had settled on forgiveness, Buttercup on condemnation, but Blossom was somewhere in the middle. Perhaps if she hadn't been dismissive of Dexter's warning, they could have avoided this situation entirely.

"Blossom?" Beaux studied her with his astute golden eyes. "You zoned out for a solid minute there." She flushed, blinking rapidly to orient herself in the present. "I have a favor to ask. Can I copy the armband you designed for the Nervo? I want to print them out of Kevlar."

"Oh… yes, that's fine," she agreed.

"And would you mind doing the circuitry for each one? It'll go faster with the two of us working together."

"Of course I don't mind." Her smile wasn't forced; focusing her efforts on a project was exactly what she needed right now. After the first hour she forgot Brick and Butch were even there, but she then noticed the former staring from across the room. Blossom had never grown accustomed to the intensity of his gaze even when they were alleged friends. Brick practically branded crosshairs onto whatever or whomever he observed, and she knew how much destruction he could cause with the lasers that gave his irises their unique hue. Being the center of his attention unnerved her so she confronted the issue head-on. "Are there details of my design you want to know about, Brick?"

When he averted his eyes, Blossom repressed a victorious smirk. "Not particularly," he mumbled. Brick wasn't about to admit that he got some kind of strange satisfaction from watching Blossom work so dutifully, just like she had in class during a test or group project. It was naïve, but seeing her act like her usual self made him believe everything would go back to normal.

The 3D printer finished long before Blossom, leaving her with a stack of armbands on the workbench she'd claimed. Halfway through them she looked up and noticed that only Beaux remained in the space, Brick, Butch, and Buttercup having presumably returned to their hotels. Sometime later, Bliss and Belle came down from their living quarters to tend Blaze. He hadn't woken yet, and Blossom wondered if he'd recognize her with his faculties restored. She wanted to be known as someone other than a tormented man's hallucination, someone Blaze could rely on when they were in the field together. She wanted _everyone_ to have need of her talents.

She completed wiring the last armband when the clock read 14:14. _"Make a wish!"_ Bubbles used to say when the Puffs were younger, believing such numerical instances brought good luck. Blossom never made wishes on the time because even though it dictated every aspect of her life, time was a human-made construct and humans were fallible.

And since regular humans were fallible, what did that say about superhumans designed by a chimpanzee?

Blossom tried not to let pride overwhelm her when she presented her progenitors with their Nervo accessories and they lauded both her ingeniousness and efficiency. "Looks like you and Beaux work well together," Bliss said by way of a compliment. She and Blaze had long ago admitted that they were no mental match for their brother, and Belle only kept up with Beaux because she heard his thoughts as they formed.

"Thank you. I want to help in any way I can. Don't hesitate to ask me for anything."

The siblings exchanged looks. "Would you be willing to intercept a real weapons shipment alongside Brick later tonight?" Beaux observed the way Blossom kept her features neutral instead of shifting to disdain. "I'm not asking to troll you. The weapons are transported via submarine in order to evade port authorities and import laws. We thought you could encase it in ice and Brick could cut through the hull, a smash-and-grab type of operation."

"I suppose that makes sense…" Blossom sighed in resignation.

Beaux preened. "Of course it does. All my plans are brilliant."

Her eyes widened as an out occurred to her. "What if I go with Bliss instead? Her lasers can cut through steel, right?"

She shook her head. "Your ice crystals would diffuse the light and reduce its intensity."

"But if it's hot enough it would just melt…" The logic of that avenue made her fall silent. "It _has_ to be me and Brick?" Blossom chided herself for being petulant, but she really didn't want to be alone with him for any amount of time.

 _"Ideally,"_ Belle answered.

Well, since it would benefit their cause… "I'll do it," she said.

"Excellent." In the blink of an eye Beaux updated her phone's contact list with everyone's information. "Now you have Brick's number, and I added the submarine's course to your map app. You should work out an exact strategy together."

 _"You're trolling them,"_ Belle thought as Blossom left their home.

 _"Just a little,"_ Beaux admitted. _"If they can't cooperate it'll really put a damper on future proceedings. This is a team-building exercise."_

 _"I'll take contrived amiability over animosity at this point,"_ Bliss added.

Blossom definitely forced herself to sound amiable in the text message she sent to Brick. _Were you briefed on tonight's mission?_

The fact that his response took several seconds made her eyes roll. _Yes_

_Is there a particular strategy you'd like to utilize?_

_That depends_ , he said.

_On what?_

_On if you're comfortable using your ice breath underwater._

_Let's say I am_ , she replied, interest piqued.

_Then you should get ahead of the sub and trap me in the ice as well. That way it won't flood when I breach the hull._

_But it will when you leave._

_All that matters is extracting the weapons._

Blossom's lips pursed. _So we're leaving the occupants to drown?_

 _No one instructed us to let them live._ She started typing a strongly-worded objection but Brick was faster. _Survivors and witnesses will just make it easier for Maximilian to hinder our efforts in the future. And anyone who violates the law for him deserves to die._

A surge of anger made her skin prickle. _Yourself not included?_

On his end, Brick stared at his phone for a minute. _During my time in his employ, I operated within the boundaries of the law. I won't deny my actions were morally questionable, but they were legal._ That was how Max wanted them to work. In case the Boys fucked up and got busted, he didn't want the victims to trace anything back to him.

_Since when is blackmail legal?_

_Who did I blackmail?_

Blossom initiated a facetime call. The apathy on Brick's holographic countenance left her fuming. "Do you think I'm oblivious? I _know_ you said something to Mrs. Carrington that made her surrender her stake in the Professor's collective."

"I didn't say anything that the gossip-mongers in her social circle hadn't been saying already," he returned. "I didn't even go public with the dirt other people had on her."

Her conviction wavered. "What dirt?"

"She started having an affair… multiple affairs, actually, after her husband's accident. He went into a coma and she started screwing around with younger men. She even propositioned _me_." Blossom's mouth opened and closed a few times. Brick squared his shoulders. "Neither you nor Natasha can claim the moral high ground this time."

Blossom certainly didn't want to ally herself with an adulterer. "Mrs. Carrington was a nice person…" she said weakly.

"I never said she didn't do good things for people, but she did something I personally find disgraceful. People who can't be loyal shouldn't vow it."

She scoffed. " _You_ believe in the sanctity of marriage?"

"No, I believe in the sanctity of words."

She forgot how poignant Brick could be when he wasn't even trying. She used to admire him for it, but at this moment it irritated her. "The point is!" Blossom shouted in an attempt to win their non-argument, "If you hadn't spoken to Carrington, none of us would be sitting in hotels in Singapore right now and _I_ wouldn't have to chase down a submarine with _you_ at two in the morning!"

Brick allowed a hint of smugness to show through his passive mask. " _I'm_ sitting in a penthouse right now. Beaux only put you up in a hotel?"

Blossom hung up on him and paced her room, simmering. She also forgot how arrogant he could be. It was such a stark change from the repentant Brick she'd grown accustomed to, but that little smirk reminded her of all the instances at school when someone tried talking down to him. _"You're wrong,"_ said the quirk of his lips, _"you don't know me. No one knows me."_

As much as Blossom wanted to believe Brick played her for a fool since the beginning, many aspects of their relationship had felt genuine. The first person he ever issued an apology to was her, for bailing on their Mexican vacation. Why deign to tell her sorry if he didn't care about hurting her feelings? Why say sorry then if he knew his decision would put Blossom in a much more painful situation later? If that apology signified the moment Brick chose to betray their friendship, if he was aware of what would happen next, why did he appear absolutely _horrified_ by the outcome?

That look on his face when she addressed him…

_"Maximilian Morbucks is in charge here. You pretended to be our friends only to sell us out to him."_

The way his strength failed and he fell to the floor…

_"I didn't know he was after you! Please, I'm sorry, I had no idea…"_

The weight of what he'd done leaving him incapable of speech and action…

_"Then you chose to be ignorant, and that's a choice I'll never forgive you for making."_

Blossom couldn't shake her intuitive certainty that Brick's reaction had been real. He wasn't acting out the calculated conclusion to a cruel plot; that was the response of someone who couldn't even begin to process the unthinkable.

Her logical mind determined the Rowdyruffs had not intended for the Powerpuffs to suffer. Her emotional heart said that because she _had_ suffered, she shouldn't forgive them so easily. Her brain reminded her that there was nothing easy about the situation they now faced together. Her heart decided the Boys didn't deserve to experience the pain she, her sisters, and Blaze had endured, because an eye for an eye made the whole world blind.

And Brick was already full of regret for blinding himself to the truth.


	4. You're Not the Only One

Brick and Blossom flew above the choppy surface of the ocean, gaining on the miniature submarine designed to hold no more than three crew members and a dozen weapon crates. It made runs from Japan to California twice a month, dropping off Clarent's armaments at a pier in Citiesville where no one gave Maximilian's suspicious activity a second thought. Blossom spotted the wake of the shallow watercraft and overtook it as a pink blur. Brick closed his eyes and dove beneath the waves, latching onto a metal fin.

He thought the stopping power of Blossom's ice breath would feel like hitting the ground at terminal velocity. Instead, the sub gradually slowed as it encountered a strong reverse current before freezing over entirely, bobbing on the surface. Brick had not anticipated the ice to be so bone-chillingly frigid; Blossom's abilities had grown _much_ more potent since their youth. He opened his eyes with his face pressed against the hull. The heat of his lasers served to make it a bit more malleable, and he easily pried the steel apart to get inside. Thanks to X-ray vision, he had perfectly positioned himself to grab the crates and get out before the crew noticed him. Seawater flooded the hole as soon as he left, then he evaporated the ice. Blossom looked grim while they watched the sub sink. They stuck around for several minutes to see if anyone managed to escape, but no faces appeared among the waves.

"That was too easy," she finally spoke.

"Don't take it for granted," Brick advised.

Only Beaux was awake to offer praise when they returned; Blossom started to wonder when exactly he slept. "Great job, both of you." He entered a code on the numeric lock of one crate and frowned at the row of pistols resting in their foam padding. Without special ammunition they were just harmless amalgamations of ceramic and polymer. His eyes flicked up to Brick. "Do you want to shoot these things for yourself?"

He looked embarrassed by the question. "Of course not."

"Don't lie," Beaux countered, "you were messing with the holographic blueprints all day." Brick studied his toes, guilty as charged. "We even have a stash of ammo. You can have the full experience."

Blossom's lips parted in protest, then she realized why Brick took such keen interest in the devices designed to kill them: _know thy enemy._ Having the same skills as a Clarent soldier would make him all the better at dispatching them. "I want the experience, too," she declared. Both boys regarded Blossom like she'd grown another head. "Show me how these weapons work."

After retrieving the ammunition from a biometric safe, Beaux led the way to a section of abandoned subway tunnel. "This part caved in last year," he explained, "they blocked it off and rerouted the tracks. It's a little bit claustrophobic, but no one will hear us." He went to the far side of the narrow cavern to set up some glowing glass vials.

"What is that?" Brick inquired.

"Bioluminescent plant extract. I'm using this opportunity to record some new data, see if they tweaked the formulas at all." Beaux stood aside and indicated that they go ahead.

Brick made a sound of consideration upon removing a handgun from the crate. "It's so light… I think the mag weighs more." He loaded some Antix rounds and looked down the barrel, getting a feel for the weapon.

"What are those green spots?" Blossom asked.

"Tritium. It's a radioactive hydrogen isotope that isn't really harmful unless ingested." Brick lined up a shot. "Tritium is used in watches and compasses, and as night sights." Blossom flinched as one of the vials exploded, splattering the rocks with green liquid before it turned a burbling neon red. Beaux retrieved a sample while Brick handed the weapon to Blossom. When she didn't budge, he moved behind her to adjust her limbs. "You want your dominant hand on the grip and your non-dominant hand underneath for support. There's no safety, so don't put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to fire." He felt her trembling a little. "Don't be afraid, it can't do anything without you. You have complete control."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Why did you even bother learning about these things?"

"It's always advantageous to know what someone's bringing to a fight against you," Brick answered. He stepped in front of her. "Act like you're going to shoot me."

"What?! No!"

"Come on," he insisted, "just don't actually do it." They stared at each other for ten long seconds before Blossom jerked her arms up. Brick reacted quickly by twisting her wrist to loosen her grip, then he twisted the barrel off to render the weapon useless. "The modular design of these things works against them. The connection points are weak so Max's guys can pop off damaged parts and replace them in under five seconds. But that also means we can break them even faster." Instead of fixing the pistol, he simply grabbed and loaded a new one. Blossom went through the motions he'd taught her so far. "Shoulders forward, feet apart. Don't lean back. Point your whole upper body at what you want to hit."

"Now what?" she prompted.

"Now you pull the trigger. These pistols have no recoil since they're so light, so don't brace yourself." Brick held his breath and watched the tendon in her hand tighten. Blossom flinched again when it went off, and she missed the centermost vial by a few inches. "That was close. Try again," Brick urged.

Swallowing her nerves, she took aim at another target and exhaled while squeezing the trigger. She gasped as the vial broke in half. "I did it! But this one's turning blue."

"That's Kew," Beaux said, collecting another sample. "So far these rounds appear consistent with what I know– Kew is blue, Dow is white, Chemix is black, and Antix is red."

Unimpressed by the first offering, Brick reached for a battle rifle next. " _These_ are much more interesting," he commented to himself more than his companions.

"How so?" Blossom tried not to laugh at how he resembled a kid with a new toy on Christmas morning.

"Most mil spec models don't even include all the standard features this one has," he said. "Out of the box it comes with a pistol grip, adjustable foregrip, folding stock, quick mag release, and a variable ACOG. It has three firing modes– single shot, fully automatic, or three-round burst." Brick nestled the rifle against his shoulder to pop off individual rounds. He replaced his empty magazine with one full of Dow and toggled the three-round burst. Blossom covered her ears to the sound of glass shattering and bullets chipping away at concrete rubble. "Hmm," Brick mused once he had finished eviscerating the remnants of the ceiling, "I didn't notice before, but there aren't any casings being ejected."

"Is that… bad?" Blossom tried.

"It's abnormal." He examined both the dart and hollow-point rounds after showing her how to handle the battle rifle. Blossom's shots were staggered so it was easy to speak over them. "Are these casings made from some sort of biopolymer?"

"Yes," Beaux answered. "As I told you before, the W and X compounds cause the most harm when they're heated. The barrels were designed to raise each bullet to that lethal temperature by the time it makes contact, and the whole thing gets integrated into the resulting mutation."

Brick hummed again. "When did you test the effectiveness of your cermet body armor against this stuff?"

"Just last month," he assured. "I wanted to be certain it would protect you all when we started working together."

"All right…" Once Blossom finished her target practice, Brick rummaged through several crates in search of the shotgun. Two were produced for every dozen rifles and half-dozen pistols because Clarent anticipated their superhuman foes maintaining their distance. Brick had an affinity for shotguns since his powers worked in the same manner. Up close his fire was lethal, but at a distance it was much less effective; flames and pellet rounds both had unpredictable spreads. Curiously, _this_ shotgun fired the exact same spread every time. A closer inspection revealed the barrel was lined with notches and grooves that first stripped off the casings and then ejected the liquid through fine mesh to form a specific spray pattern. The stack of casings had to be manually removed which made the shotgun slow to reload and thus inefficient, but it was still an ingenious design. No wonder Max didn't want anyone else to have it.

Lastly was the sniper rifle. Only one was included with every five shipments because there weren't many Clarent soldiers skilled enough to use them. Sniper rifles were not a point-and-shoot weapon like the others; some math was required if the user wanted to hit distant targets since the scope didn't do all the work. They were also heavy, so one had to be physically fit to carry it around. And this particular model came in many pieces, so one had to know how to put it together before all else.

Brick was, admittedly, ignorant of the usage of the sniper rifle. But Beaux was not.

"When I was the equivalent of twelve years old, they put a Barrett M82 in my hands and told me to go kill some African terrorists trying to stage a coup in the Republic of Congo." Brick and Blossom stood by while Beaux assembled the rifle. "It was the first and only real combat zone I've been in. After that, when my siblings all developed the ability to fly, I couldn't keep up with them. I had to stay behind while they went and fought, unable to do much but observe." He screwed on the muzzle brake and gave his creation an almost affectionate look. "I've wanted to get my hands on one of these for a long time. Now I can go into the field with everyone and give Clarent a taste of their own medicine."

Also included in the crate were unique top-loading magazines holding eight fifty-caliber rounds each. Beaux locked the cartridge in place with a smack, unfolded the bipods, and laid down on the ground to adjust the scope. "You're _not_ going to fire that thing in here," Brick stated, eyes wide.

"Of course I am," Beaux glibly replied.

"There's not enough room. It's too enclosed."

"Then I suggest you duck and cover."

Brick all but tackled Blossom to shield her with his body just as Beaux pulled the trigger. The entire tunnel shook from the force of the shot, sending down a cascade of dust, concrete, metal fragments, and pieces of old wiring. The report rattled bones, brains, and eardrums alike; if they were not super, they would have gone deaf. It took several minutes for everything to settle, and once his ears stopped ringing, Brick examined Blossom. "Are you all right?"

"I think so…" She appeared disoriented, blinking at him like a deer in the headlights.

He scowled at Beaux. "Are you insane?"

"No, I'm ecstatic." He alternated between rubbing his temple and his eye socket, yet was smiling. "Look what that thing did to the wall. Just imagine what it'll do to our enemies." An impressive impact site had formed and bits of rubble kept falling away to reveal the rebuilt tunnel on the other side. "Guess we can't shoot here anymore. On the upside, I think I can design alternative rounds for this beast."

The Reds had not fully recovered by the time they reentered Homebase. Belle and Bliss greeted them, drowsy and annoyed since it was three in the morning. "What did you do?" Bliss demanded of Beaux as soon as he sealed the utility tunnel.

"Got a new toy." He showed off the sniper rifle before putting it in the safe. "You heard it go off?"

 _"We felt it,"_ Belle mentally snapped at him. _"There was a disruption to Blaze's readouts."_

"Ah, shit." Beaux touched his forehead to his brother's. "I'm sorry, I was being selfish. Wake up soon so we can kill the crap out of Morbucks together."

"Are we done here?" Blossom questioned, exasperated. "Can we go get some sleep?"

"Yes, by all means, go to bed." Bliss shooed them out the front door. "We won't call you for anything tomorrow."

"Appreciate it," Brick said with a nod. That minor action made his head spin, and it took several blocks for him to realize he and Blossom were walking side by side. "What hotel are you staying in?" he asked to disrupt the silence he suddenly found awkward.

"Umm…" Should she tell him? What if he had to reach her in an emergency? "It's called Lotus Gardens."

"Sounds nice. Does it have lotuses?"

"Yes, they're in the natural swimming pool. No chlorine. I haven't tried it yet, but…" Did Brick even care, or was he just asking to be polite since they were the only two people out and about so late and it was weird not to talk to each other? "It's only been a week and a half. I haven't… fully settled yet."

"I see. Well…" They stopped at another crosswalk where he pointed in a random direction. "My hotel is this way."

Her lips quirked. "You mean your penthouse?"

"Err, yeah…" Brick mussed his hair. "It's for extended stays. I didn't know how long we would be here, so…" Blossom probably despised him even more for trying to maintain the posh lifestyle he was accustomed to.

"So what's your place called?"

But then… why did she keep talking to him? "Paradiso," he answered.

"That sounds… nice." She frowned at herself for parroting him. The shockwave from the sniper shot must have affected her ability to speak like a normal person. They stood around for a protracted moment, then Brick spun on his heel to cross the street. "Wait!" Blossom called. He stopped in the middle of the road to turn back. "Thank you for teaching me how to shoot."

"You're welcome," he replied. It wasn't like she needed to learn when everything about her was a deadly weapon, but that was just Blossom, who constantly strove to expand her knowledge base and better herself. Blossom, who said she'd never forgive him for his ignorant decision. Blossom, who was either really good at acting civil or had decided to warm back up to him within the last twelve hours for reasons he couldn't begin to fathom.

* * *

Now that they had appropriated Maximilian's latest weapons shipment, the next step was to destroy the manufacturing centers. Every firearm was assembled by a team of gunsmiths hand-picked by Maximilian himself. There was one workshop in Hokkaido and another in Ryukyu, and they wore guises of legitimate 3D printing businesses. Beaux determined that stealthy infiltration was the best way to take them down instead of making a public spectacle, meaning Bliss and Bubbles were best suited for the job.

"Why _me?_ " Bubbles griped, not very receptive to the idea of going anywhere without Boomer.

"You lived in Japan for a whole year," Beaux said. "You know the culture and you're fluent in the language."

Bubbles was fluent in _every_ language since she was a true omniglot, but that was beside the point. "So?"

"So you'll blend in in Hokkaido, somewhere between a tourist and a local." He summoned holographic images of what looked like a street fair. "The Sapporo Autumn Festival is ongoing. It's in Odori Park which is one block away from the workshop's façade, so you can make your way there with total anonymity. They have a gallery where people can browse their 3D creations, but the weapons are made below ground. You'll get down there, plant a thermate explosive, get out, and detonate it concurrently with Bliss."

Bubbles balked. "How am I supposed to get into a super-secret area without anyone seeing?!"

"Just cause a distraction," Bliss suggested, "like an… electrical fire."

"Oh, that's brilliant." Beaux credited his sister with a nod. "Cause an electrical fire in the 3D printer. That'll keep everyone distracted."

"Well, okay…" It was such a straightforward plan that Bubbles knew she wouldn't mess up even though she'd be alone. And really, did she _need_ Boomer to hold her hand through all this? She was an adult now, and had functioned perfectly fine on her own before meeting him.

And she trusted that Beaux knew what he was doing because, well… Beaux knew _everything_.

Bubbles dressed in her blue tank top and khaki shorts but left all her accessories behind, minus her new Nervo in its tactical case. "Are you nervous?" Bliss inquired via voice message.

"A little." Bubbles made sure to keep her head down and whisper so no one could tell she had an accomplice. The crowd in Odori Park was so thick it took a while to make her way through on foot, and she worried about falling behind schedule. Upon walking to the next block, she scanned the storefronts and businesses arranged in neat rows. She had spent her year abroad in Tokyo but Sapporo seemed like a pretty happening place, too. Shame she had to cause a little chaos in the lives of all these innocent people. The notion made her blanch. What if innocent people got caught in the blast that was supposed to cripple the bad guys? She spoke at a volume the typical human ear couldn't register. "Beaux? You can see what I see, right? You can hear me, right?" She gave the gallery portion of the shop a long look, then traced the outline of the compact thermate grenade in her pocket. "How big is the explosion gonna be?"

Her phone trilled with a message from a sender with a name comprised of random symbols, the virtual assistant reading it aloud. _"I calculated the ratio of ingredients to produce a blast that won't extend beyond the perimeter of the building. No civilians will get hurt as long as they're outside."_

That made Bubbles feel a bit better about her task. She lifted her chin, straightened up, and walked into the gallery.

She took her time examining all the 3D sculptures, even using her Nervo to snap pictures while moving about the room. The top of the industrial printer was protected by a plexiglas case and the rest was in the basement, and she didn't see any cords or wires. Her anxiety ebbed when she spotted an outlet low on the wall. She knelt next to it, pretended to tie her shoe, and sent a little spark skittering inside. It didn't take long for smoke and crackling to alert the workers that something was wrong.

There was a door opposite the entrance labeled 'employees only'. Bubbles pressed herself against the wall beside it as ten or so people came up from below in response to the piercing alarm, then she slipped inside during the commotion. Another door with a card scanner awaited her; it took precisely three seconds for the light to change from red to green. "Thanks, Beaux." To Bliss she said, "I'm in."

"I'm planting my grenade now," she replied. "Let me know when you've left."

"Will do." Bubbles passed a few more locked doors before reaching a set of stairs. She descended cautiously, pausing when she heard the wail of a fire engine drawing near. She scanned the lower level with her X-ray vision, but much to her chagrin the walls were full of lead. Preparing for combat, Bubbles burst through the basement door with electricity sparking in her palms… but there was no one to unleash it on. With a sigh of relief she withdrew her energy to survey the room. Each workspace featured the four proprietary firearm models at different stages of completion, their whitish and silvery exteriors glistening beneath bright LEDs. She wondered how many people had been involved in the development process for these weapons. It was rather unnerving to realize they all had ideas and answers in response to the question, "How do we kill superhumans?" She was not so naïve as to believe Mr. Morbucks' mercenaries would discriminate when they inevitably came face to face, reserving the hollow-points for the Ruffs and the darts for the Puffs.

Well, once she and Bliss were finished, they wouldn't be getting any more weapons to use against anyone, super or not.

Bubbles wedged her grenade into the printer and turned to leave, feeling the weight of the remote detonator in her other pocket. Before she could reach for the door, a small squeak caught her ear. She whirled with a gasp, eyes scanning the basement with renewed interest. At the very back, in the left corner, stood a stool with a small cage on it. Her countenance shifted to horror when she saw what was in the cage: a tiny black kitten. She grew even more horrified when she noticed the splotches on the wall behind it.

Dried blood. The gunsmiths tested their finished products on innocent animals.

Bubbles had remained relatively quiet up until that point, but as she streaked across the room and practically ripped the cage in half to free the kitten, she shrieked or wailed or did _something_ that alerted the other occupants to her presence. She hadn't seen them before because they were shrouded in shadow, but there were multiple cages beneath each table housing nightmarish _things_ that had once been animals. A cacophony of unearthly squawks and screams escaped the beaks of winged monstrosities, pigeons or seagulls at one point. Other creatures with blistered flesh and oversized teeth gnawed at their metal prisons, mice and rats once upon a time. The terrible yowling beasts with too many eyes and appendages were a possible indication of the kitten's fate.

Bubbles froze, unable to look away from the macabre zoo until Bliss's voice emanated from her arm. "Bubbles, how are you doing? Have you encountered any opposition?"

"I-I'm…" All of a sudden her eyes flooded with hot, angry tears. Any reservations she had about the mission were gone now. She wished it were the gunsmiths sitting in those cages rather than the critters they used for target practice. Never in her life had she conceived the thought of hurting an animal, but… it was better to let these ones rest in peace instead of leaving them to suffer in such unnatural forms. Bubbles brushed off her tears and flew out the door. "I'm almost ready," she said to Bliss.

The gallery was empty when she returned upstairs, but the fire department and a huge crowd had assembled outside the shop as the printer continued to crackle. Evidently the business owners didn't want to let the firefighters perform their civic duty, though they wouldn't have anything to hide much longer. Bubbles glanced around and spotted a skylight through which to make her escape. The kitten dug its little claws into her bare skin but she didn't notice, flying low across the rooftops to a taller building several lots away. Alighting, she removed the detonator and gripped it in her trembling hand while face-timing Bliss. "Okay, I've cleared the site."

She beamed. "Excellent work. On my mark– three, two, one, blast off."

Bubbles watched the crowd scramble back from the initial fiery blast. After that, everything with the potential to explode did, sending up a pillar of black smoke. Satisfied, she tucked the kitten into her shirt to protect it and shot off back to Singapore.

She beat Bliss even though Hokkaido was farther away than the Ryukyu Islands. Everyone knew how to navigate to and from Homebase by now, but she still waited out of politeness. Bliss took note of the wiggling bump beneath Bubbles' tank top while they walked along the tunnel. "What is _that?_ "

Bubbles revealed her rescue. "The people making the weapons were testing them on animals. This was the only one who hadn't been mutated."

"Poor thing." Bliss scratched its fuzzy head with her fingertip, then she faltered. "Are you sure it wasn't hurt? It doesn't have a tail."

"Huh?" Bubbles brought the kitten to eye-level. "Oh, that's natural. It's a Japanese bobtail cat. This one's a boy and he's one month old."

"How do you know?"

"Uh…" She smiled sheepishly. "I can understand animals?"

"Really?" Bliss sounded more impressed than dubious. "Beaux didn't include that in the profile he made for you."

"It's not really a thing people can see, even if they've been spying on me for years." Bubbles looked cheeky as Bliss laughed. "I'd better take this little guy to a shelter so he can find a home." In any other situation she would have kept him, but she couldn't feasibly raise a kitten while living out of a hotel and leaving at random times to fight bad guys. She was pretty sure neither Lotus Gardens nor Paradiso allowed animals, anyway.

"If that's your plan, you should talk to Belle." Bubbles heeded the suggestion and went upstairs to knock on the door to the living quarters. "Just go in!" Bliss called to her. "Belle's room is the second on the left!"

Belle opened her door before Bubbles could raise her knuckles. _"There are a few animal shelters on this island. We can walk to the nearest one."_

"Okay," she verbally agreed, not quite used to telepathy. "Thanks for showing me."

Bubbles wondered whether the people they passed were staring at the adorable kitten in her arms or at the stark height difference between the two girls. _"Our heights, unfortunately,"_ Belle answered. _"I get stared at nearly every time I go out."_

"That's not very nice." Bubbles frowned as critical whispers reached her ears. Would people still be so quick to judge if they knew others could hear their thoughts?

_"I'm used to it. I know my appearance is unusual by everyone's standards."_

"But you're… Icelandic, right? In your genes?" Bubbles received a nod. "Don't they have fair skin and hair? And light eyes?" Belle pursed her lips before deciding to transfer some of the things she sensed to Bubbles. The blonde gasped at the collective opinion of everyone around them: they thought Belle didn't look quite _human_. She was a bit too tall for a woman, a bit too willowy to be healthy, too pale, too _weird_ compared to Bubbles who had that stereotypical 'all-American girl' look about her. _"That's so rude,"_ Bubbles thought to herself. _"Belle's such a beautiful person."_

Belle blushed. It was typically men who complimented her appearance, occasionally women, but they focused on individual features like her eyes, hair, or figure. No one had ever called her beautiful and meant it about her _soul_.

At the animal shelter, Bubbles was somewhat reluctant to surrender the kitten. He was so grateful she had saved him and he didn't want to leave her, but she reassured him that the people would take good care of him and he'd find his forever home. At least, she hoped he'd be so fortunate. She sighed as a vet took the kitten for an examination. "This place has a good turnover rate," Belle said aloud, her soft voice taking a moment to register in Bubbles' ears. "I bring all the stray animals I find here, and I like to volunteer."

"Really?" She had just scored major brownie points with Bubbles. "Are there dogs, too?"

"Yes, but mostly cats. Sometimes the odd exotic animal makes its way here as well. Monkeys, parrots, reptiles, small mammals…" She tilted her head. "Do you want to see some?"

"Exotic animals? Sure!" Belle signed in at the volunteer counter and let Bubbles wear her badge as they entered a special section requiring gloves to prevent the spread of bacteria; some critters like salamanders and newts could transmit salmonella. "Ooh, star tortoises!" Bubbles observed with glee. They raised their heads to smile at her in their lazy yet cute terrapin manner.

 _"They were seized while on their way to Malaysia to be made into souvenirs,"_ Belle told her. _"The smuggler is in jail, and someone from this shelter is going to return them to the wild in India. Many of these animals suffer health issues while in transit in addition to mental stress."_

"So this is like a little sanctuary where they can rest and recuperate…" Bubbles studied a bearded dragon in the habitat next door, then its baby python neighbor stuck its tongue out at her. "That's wonderful!"

 _"I think so, too."_ After a short conversation with some Amazonian parrots, Belle motioned for Bubbles to follow her to an outdoor enclosure with trees and rocks in it. She gasped when the creature it contained appeared, baring its fangs.

"A tiger cub?! What's she doing here?!"

 _"Someone with enough money believed they were above the law and wanted a majestic pet to symbolize their elite status."_ Disdain radiated off Belle. _"There are a lot of wealthy individuals in this country. Their desire for exotic wildlife fuels illegal trade. Animals end up where they aren't meant to be and cause problems to local ecosystems, and then the blame is placed on them instead of the people who abducted it from its home. Creatures shouldn't be punished for trying to survive."_

Bubbles leaned on the metal fence while the young tiger continued growling. "I hate that about humans… how selfish they can be," she quietly remarked. "Why can't more people be satisfied with what they have instead of taking what doesn't belong to them?"

_"It is their nature."_

Silence for a beat. "Do you really think we can win against Mr. Morbucks? Or should we be like these animals and try adapting to a new habitat?"

At that, Belle's delicate fae-like countenance shifted to something Bubbles hadn't seen before. She almost seemed like a different person– harder, steeled, and a little menacing. _"He cannot parry the sword of Lady Justice forever."_

Blue eyes viewed her sidelong. "Are you guys planning to… execute him?"

_"Beaux has mentioned it as a joke, but I know his true thoughts. He wants to remove Maximilian and Joan from the world entirely. And when Bliss said 'cut off all the heads of the snake', she meant it literally."_

"What do you and Blaze think?"

A pause. _"We are undecided."_ The decision should have been easy given how they suffered while in Maximilian's possession. Although all four siblings endured constant abuse at the hands of him and Joan, Belle and Blaze received the worst of it. Even after all these years, Belle still didn't know _exactly_ what her handler did to her in the locker room. She could pull all the images and emotions from her siblings' psyches but the memory would never be her own, whereas Blaze's memories were a physical part of him. His negative experiences existed as the various pieces of his body he'd regrown, so it was impossible not to dwell on them each and every day.

Bubbles knelt to look the tiger in the eye. "You'll be home soon, little one. There're lots of good humans who want to help you." It gave her a slow blink, a sign of trust, and she smiled ruefully. "It'd be nice to have some good people helping us, too."

* * *

Townsville had changed drastically since the departure of the Powerpuff Girls. Once news spread of their absence, the criminals lurking in Citiesville's shadows crept over in a trickle that quickly became a torrent. The police department had been resting on their laurels for years and didn't possess the manpower or resources to deal with the crime wave. Mayor Bellum issued a mandatory curfew and requested additional law enforcement from nearby municipalities. They obliged, but more and more criminals flocked to Townsville. The truly enterprising ones had heard about the destruction of a laboratory where traces of Chemicals W, X, and Y might be found. Any surviving samples would fetch astronomical prices on the black market… if they could be recovered.

In response to this new threat, Maximilian assigned Clarent personnel to protect his assets. There were drawbacks to their presence in Townsville; Mayor Bellum was now breathing down his neck, and his businesses abroad were more vulnerable to attack from the superhumans allied against him. He had experts tracking their movements in an attempt to get ahead of them, but it was still too early to allocate his soldiers properly. He could only hope there would be enough Antix and Dow to take them out when they struck next.

Security at the Morbucks mansion had been bolstered, too. "Honestly, darling, I'm _tired_ of having to dodge _those people_ when I go out for my morning run!" Lucrèce pursed her lips around her smoothie straw.

"Those people are here for our protection, my love," Max said from behind his laptop. "Home burglaries are on the rise."

"Don't we already have the _best_ security system money can buy?"

"The best form of security is pointing a gun at someone who doesn't have one," he countered. Lucrèce frowned in disapproval as their daughter snickered. "There's a present for the two of you in that case there."

"Ooh!" Princess leapt out of her seat and bounced on her toes as her mother unfastened the latches with perfectly manicured nails. When she lifted the lid, both women gasped.

"Maximilian Edmund the Third!" Lucrèce shrieked. "Why are these _guns_ sitting on my Sicilian marble countertop?!"

Max maintained an even tone. "They're for your protection, my love. Anything could happen while you're out and about, so I want you to be able to defend yourselves."

"Where'd you get these, Daddy?" Princess wondered.

"I had them specially made just for you," he answered with a fond smile. "They're two of a kind. No one else in the world has something like these." Princess's eyes were wide as she lifted the compact three-shot revolver. It was sleek and shiny and made her feel like a sci-fi heroine.

Her mother was not as excited. "Darling, I simply _can't_ be seen in public with this! People will think I'm trying to cause trouble!"

Max sighed. "Would you rather they see your corpse on the sidewalk as the victim of a mugging, or perhaps the victim of a far worse offence perpetrated against beautiful women?" His wife gaped at him, affronted and terrified. "That's what our city is coming to. Carrying that firearm will ensure you don't become victims."

Princess looked down the barrel with one eye, striking a ridiculous pose. "How does it work? Can you show us?"

"Of course, Sweetie." Max got up from the table and led them into the backyard where the hedges had been fortified with cement blocks and razor wire. He removed the gun from the case and closed Lucrèce's hands around it. "Isn't it light? You'll hardly feel the weight in your purse." To Princess he said, "Face forward, Sweetie, not sideways. You won't hit anything with that cowboy shooting."

"Okay, okay…"

"And open your other eye. You're limiting your field of vision."

" _Okay_ , Daddy."

Much to his delight, Lucrèce listened as well. "Now, I'm going to give you some special bullets. They're _very_ deadly, so never raise your weapon against someone unless you feel threatened." He loaded his wife's revolver while Princess figured it out herself. She always had a penchant for new technology. "Now you just point and shoot."

"Got it." The girl stuck out her tongue a little as she aimed at a block.

"There aren't _any_ safety measures on this thing?" Lucrèce asked, yelping when her daughter's gun went off like a firecracker. "Eek! Princess!"

"What?!"

"I was _talking_ to your _father!_ " The girl rolled her eyes.

"No, it doesn't have a safety," Max replied, "but you don't need it. There's a biometric component that makes it impossible for anyone else to use, and it won't go off unless your hand is fully on it. So you don't have to worry about accidentally firing it in your purse."

"That's comforting…" the woman muttered. She sighed deeply and raised her arm to shoot. Her husband and daughter stood by for the whole half a minute it took her to squeeze the trigger, and she jumped.

"How does it feel?" Max wanted to know.

"Easy…" Lucrèce breathed. "Quite easy."

Princess examined her remaining chambered rounds. "Daddy, is this black stuff Chemical X?"

"Yes it is," he admitted.

She frowned. "If we shoot this at someone, won't it give them abilities like the Powerpuff Girls and Rowdyruff Boys?"

He shook his head once. "This form of Chemical X can't do that."

Her father didn't elaborate and Princess didn't press him for details. Not like she needed to when she could find out for herself on the internet. "Ick," she remarked of the images that greeted her, wrinkling her nose. They were all captioned with 'Chemix' rather than the full name, and there were articles about the side effects of Chemix as a drug alongside other names she'd never heard before. Kew? Dow? Antix? Apparently they were better than shrooms and LSD if one wanted to take a little trip. Later that night, Princess knocked on the door to her father's office. "Daaaddy," she sang as a greeting.

"What is it, Sweetie?"

She sat in one of the armchairs. They were uncomfortable, but that was the point. If Maximilian Morbucks invited someone to his home office, they had either fucked up beyond redemption or there was real Serious Business to conduct. Either way, people paid more attention when they were uncomfortable. "Are your factories making that Chemix stuff?"

Max looked up, eyes narrowed slightly. "Where did you hear about that?"

"The internet," Princess said, an unspoken "duh" at the end since she'd never dare insult her father's intelligence. "And you told us you acquired the rights to Chemical X."

"Yes, my factories are producing Chemix," he answered.

"And the other stuff?"

"Those too."

"But drugs are bad, Daddy. Drugs ruin people's lives."

He tried to smile reassuringly. "I know, Sweetie, but they also make a lot of money. I need that money to fund other business ventures."

"Like what?" Princess pressed.

"Like… the Aegis Project. It's nearing completion."

"Oh yeah, the fancy network thing… _Blossom_ was working on that." She caught the minute reaction her father had to the name, and twisted a strand of hair around her finger to seem non-confrontational. "She hasn't been at school for the past month. None of the Powerpuffs or Rowdyruffs have. Well, Butch and Boomer were for a while, then they just stopped coming. There's all these rumors going around that something bad happened to them."

Max cleared his throat. "I'm sure the Boys got bored and went someplace more exciting."

Princess highly doubted there was any place more exciting than Townsville right now. The Boys had gotten rich off cleaning up the scum of the Earth. If they were around, they'd be earning more money than they could count from all the jobs Townsville's elite wanted to hire them for. And if the Girls were around they sure as shit wouldn't be letting criminals have free reign of the city. Her father hadn't said anything, but Princess was almost positive there was a correlation between the 'accident' at the shipping yard and the disappearance of the Puffs and Ruffs. Max had media people on his payroll so reports on the implosion were vague. As such, Princess gleaned information from her father one tidbit at a time.

She returned to her room, humming a senseless tune while she opened a posterboard. 'Clarent' was the newest addition; she drew one arrow pointing to 'Crime', another pointing at 'Morbucks Holdings', and attached a string to a circle labeled 'Rogue Supers?' The arrows were hard facts and strings were hypotheticals; there was another one connecting 'Rogue Supers?' to the name 'Ex-Professor Joan Newtronium'. The board was kind of a clusterfuck, but Princess had been working on it since the beginning of senior year to show the other members of Aspis Club. Everyone thought they were students who went around helping innocent citizens stay safe in the danger zone Townsville had become, and they _did_ do that after school hours, but really they were trying to figure out what happened to the Powerpuffs and Rowdyruffs. Dexter Jones was the founding member and the club was limited to students who had personally known the Girls and/or Boys.

Princess joined because she didn't agree with what her father was doing. She had no desire to take over his empire if it really was built on all the heinous crap she kept uncovering.

She had qualms about bringing her gun to school, mostly that someone would discover it and she'd get expelled, but it sat at the bottom of her bag all day without causing an incident. Then again, it _was_ an inanimate object. If anything happened it'd be her own stupid fault. Of course she wanted to show it off, but she managed to wait until meeting up with the rest of Aspis at the Floyjoydson's house. Their parents were on an architectural tour of Finland so it was the perfect place to host a group of friends and their clandestine discussions.

"So what'd you bring for show 'n tell, Princess?" Mitch asked. She withdrew the revolver and set in on the carpet. Susie, Julie, Mike, and Wes all gasped but everyone else was quiet, conflicted.

"My daddy had this made just for me," she told them. "I'm the only one who can shoot it 'cause of biometrics. But that's not the interesting part—"

"I think it's fascinating," Dexter interjected. "Can I see?"

"One sec." Princess emptied the bullets into her palm, rolling them around like dice. "These are filled with something called Chemix, but it's really just Chemical X in the form of a weapon."

"Holy shit, really?" Mitch's eyes practically fell out of their sockets. "How'd your dad get that shit?!"

"He was able to get it because of what he hired the Rowdyruffs to do," she said.

Several people went, "Huh?"

"It's part of my presentation." Dexter, of course, had worked out all the details long ago. He was giving Princess the opportunity to explain her father's machinations and the effects they had on everyone. It was her personal choice to help make things right.

Robin blinked her big blue eyes at Princess, curious. "Do you have anything else for us?"

"Uh huh. You guys have seen the Clarent security guards stationed around Townsville, right?" The others nodded. "Have you seen the guns they're carrying? They're all just like mine– they shoot bullets filled with Chemix. There are other chemical rounds, too."

"So that stuff is all over the city?" Floyd shook his head, incredulous. "Keane had everyone watch that new substance abuse video. Shit's going to go down if the druggies find out they can get Chemix from those mercenaries."

"That's… not really the issue," Princess hesitated to say. "It's way worse in weaponized form. I saw some videos of people getting hit by these bullets. They turn into _monsters_. Like, legit crazy mutants!"

"So, do we need to brace ourselves for a new war between the cops and criminals-turned-monsters?" Lloyd was grim. "If they start shooting people indiscriminately, it'll be just like when we were kids."

Princess shook her head. "They're not really here to protect Townsville, they're here to protect Daddy's assets. And our family. I think he's afraid that the Rowdyruffs and Powerpuffs will try to hurt us."

"Would they do that?" Mike mused. "If only your dad is to blame, why would they want revenge against you and your mom?"

"I… don't know," Princess replied. "It's not like he told us anything about what he's been doing, or what's going on now, just that he wants us to be safe from criminals. But I'm pretty sure he thinks the Powerpuffs and Rowdyruffs are bad guys now."

"Bad for his business, maybe," Wes muttered. Guilt crossed his countenance when Princess grew downcast. "But that's not the type of business _you_ want to run, right?"

"God, no, of course not." She scrunched up her nose. "Perish the thought!" She wanted to use her family's money to do more charitable work and angel investing, less forming shell companies and monopolizing.

After the meeting ended, mostly everybody went their separate ways. Floyd and Lloyd headed to Mitch's home near the Bay Bridge, arming themselves with baseball bats and brass knuckles since it was the first area targeted by Citiesville thieves. They also wore scarves to obscure their faces in case they ran into law enforcement. Major Bellum had explicitly asked her citizens not to form vigilante mobs, but Mitch's run-down neighborhood wasn't a high priority for the police. Besides, the boys couldn't be considered a _mob_ of vigilantes when there were only three of them. Susie, Wes, and Mike also concealed their identities with masks and sunglasses while they patrolled outside Pokey Folks senior living center, armed with tasers and mace. Since it was no secret that Townsville's elite kept buying police protection, _someone_ had to take it upon themselves to defend the city's vulnerable elderly residents.

Princess had dinner with her parents and left the news on her TV at low volume until they went to bed, then she crept out of her room to her father's office. Although there were no mercenaries inside the mansion they were guarding every inch of the exterior, and one stood right outside the office window. Some criminal ambitions in her youth had given Princess a stealthy skillset. She didn't know what exactly she was looking for, but maybe searching her father's old files from before she was born would shed more insight on the current state of affairs.

She found nothing useful until stumbling across a thick manilla folder, which stood out among her father's green ones. "Ooh, what are you?" she murmured as a crafty grin split her lips. The label read 'Augment W'. She squirreled the folder back to her room, but as soon as she lifted the cover her smile fell right off her face. Princess's eyes widened and she gasped loudly, clamping her mouth shut the next instant. No one had heard her, she hoped. "There's _more?_ " she breathed in awe, the folder's contents leaving her slack-jawed.

Upon reading through the entire dossier she sat in stunned silence. Then, she grew contemplative. Her father's paranoid behavior made a lot more sense now. Princess snatched her golden Nervo off the nightstand to contact Dexter, who answered immediately despite it being one in the morning. "You won't believe what I just discovered!" she said in a stage whisper. "There are _four more superhumans_ out in the world! That Newtronium lady made them _years_ before the Puffs and the Ruffs!"

"I know," Dexter replied in a calm, measured manner. "I just put one of them on hold to answer you."


	5. All I Want is an Ordinary Moment

"So there's good news and bad news," Beaux told the six younger supers assembled before him. "The good news is that Blaze has recovered and wants to meet you all."

"That's wonderful!" Bubbles clapped to accentuate her joy. Blossom studied the medical bay that was so clean and tidy it almost seemed like Blaze hadn't spent the last three days there in recovery.

"It _is_ wonderful," Beaux concurred. "He's still sleeping off his regenerative coma, but he'll be down later with our sisters. Which reminds me– Bliss wanted to know if you'd be opposed to sparring with us before we get serious tomorrow. We underwent the same combat training as Clarent when we were kids, so she thought we could show you some moves in case you get hit with Antix and find yourself in a vulnerable position."

"Sounds good," Buttercup said. "What's the bad news?"

Beaux laced his fingers beneath his chin, nonchalant. "Morbucks has stationed about half his entire security force in Townsville."

Brick raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't he be sending them to face us?"

"You'd think, but he did it for two reasons. First, he's using his soldiers to fend off looters trying to scavenge remnants of the super compounds. If you take a satellite look at Townsville right now…" Beaux projected an image for their convenience. "You'll see this massive hole in the industrial district courtesy of Bliss and Belle's rescue operation. But they didn't completely destroy the facility, so there's still a lot of equipment, samples, and physical data hanging around. Fortunately for me I dug through their servers and copied everything before it went kablooie." Bubbles giggled at the word. "Second, Morbucks is afraid of us and thinks his mercenaries are enough to protect him. He's willing to let us destroy his entire empire in order to hang on to his crown. But once we're finished, we'll rip that from his hands, too." And then lead him to the guillotine if Beaux got his way.

Brick made another sound of consideration. "I'm concerned he'll turn Clarent on innocent civilians." Blossom glanced at him. They shared the same worry.

Beaux waved it off. "Morbucks won't risk a personnel incident that might put him at odds with Mayor Bellum, the police department, or the citizens themselves. He's trying to lay low while bracing himself for our triumphant return."

Buttercup held out a hand. "And how are we gonna do that now? It'll be like walking into a death trap."

"Most of the mercenaries should be cleared out by the time we get back," Beaux coolly replied. The Puffs and Ruffs regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. That sounded like he had a ploy up his sleeve.

"Wait, so, the bad news is actually good news?" Bubbles tilted her head at the logic.

"Possibly. If things don't work out the way I planned due to human error, then it'll be bad. So let's call it cautiously optimistic news." Beaux shrugged. "It's still good for us because it means we'll encounter fewer Clarent soldiers on deployment. About four-thousand people currently comprise the ranks. With half of them in Townsville, and maybe two-thirds of the remainder on loan to Morbucks' clients, we're likely to face off against fifty to sixty mercenaries at each facility, presuming they're evenly dispersed."

"And how many facilities remain?" Blossom wanted to know.

Beaux pulled up the list of target locations. "Bliss and Bubbles shut down the weapons manufacturing centers yesterday, so we're going to blow up the munitions factories next. This will end the reign of Morbucks' proprietary weapons on the black market. The factories are close by in China and Malaysia so it should be a simple day job. After that we'll attack the chemical plants situated in Ukraine, Bangladesh, Liberia, and Venezuela. These are countries where capitalist pigs take advantage of cheap labor, unrestrictive laws, and the ability to sweep any mishaps under the rug."

"Mishaps like what?" Boomer wondered.

"Bad chemical reactions, accidental mutations, murdering workers who try skimming the product, things like that," Beaux explained. "With little to no government oversight, Morbucks can commit all kinds of inhumanities while people praise him for 'providing employment opportunities' and 'bolstering the economy'." He highlighted the final set of images. "These six facilities are testing laboratories situated in more diligent countries. Chemical W gets tested in Sweden, Chemical X in Canada, Antidote W in Germany, and Antidote X in Argentina. You already helped us destroy the labs in Japan, India, China, and Russia. Morbucks' newest building is in Kuwait, another place trying to synthesize Chemical Y. And lastly is the psion training center in Nevada, USA. That one will be the most difficult to take down since it's full of drugged-out psychics."

 _"As I once was,"_ came Belle's unexpected voice. Beaux spun around and his sister offered an apologetic smile for startling him.

"Are Blaze and Bliss awake yet?" he asked. She shook her head and he grunted. "In that case, you guys could go have breakfast or something. I'll text you when to come back for combat lessons."

Butch yawned. "Maybe you should stop briefin' us at the asscrack o' dawn and let us sleep in."

"Like you deserve it?" Beaux shot back. "You've barely done anything since you got here." Butch had to admit that was true. "But you'll hardly have any downtime starting tomorrow, so live it up today."

With that, the six supers ventured outside where Brick scrolled through eatery options on his Nervo. "Do you want to have breakfast?" he inquired of the Girls. "On me."

"I could eat," Butch put in.

"I know _you_ can. I was asking _them_."

Bubbles agreed without hesitation. "Sure, and we can go shopping afterward! There's a mall not far from the milk tea shop."

"What do you need to go shopping for?" Blossom asked.

Bubbles lifted one shoulder. "Makeup, bath stuff, some casual clothes for when we're hanging out like right now…"

"Actually, I'm with you." Blossom's head swiveled toward Buttercup in shock. "As amazing as I look in this ass-kicking outfit, it'd be nice to throw on a T-shirt and jeans when I'm not kicking ass. Also, the hotel shampoo is making my hair flat." Boomer laughed once and she shot him a glare. "Got a problem with that?"

He held up his hands. "Nope, no problem. That's just the girliest thing I've ever heard you say."

"What'd you expect? I'm a girl." She folded her arms and scowled at Brick. "Are we going to go eat or not?" Her sisters exchanged a look. Although prickly, Buttercup was _trying_ to be sociable since she'd have to cooperate with the Boys in their upcoming battles.

Brick navigated to a restaurant where they ordered drinks and typical American breakfast foods, though Bubbles opted for a plate of bread, cheese, and fresh fruit that Blossom idly helped herself to while browsing cultural sites on her phone. "Oh, sure, just go ahead and eat all the strawberries," Bubbles pouted. "Not like they're my favorite or anything."

Blossom looked guilty. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." She did that back home because Bubbles always quartered too many strawberries in the morning. They were often on sale at Malph's, so they bought several cartons each week and had to eat them before they got mushy.

Buttercup deposited some cantaloupe chunks onto Blossom's plate. "Have this. You know I hate it."

"How can you hate cantaloupe?" Butch asked. He reached across the table to spear a chunk on his fork. "You ate the honeydew and it's the same shit."

"It's not. Honeydew is sweet and _green_ and cantaloupe is bland and _orange_."

"What do you have against orange things?" Blossom held her sister's gaze and then snagged a piece of bacon at lightning speed.

"Hey! Eat your own fucking breakfast!" Buttercup blocked her plate with one arm and crammed a Belgian waffle into her mouth before Blossom tried swiping that, too.

She acted innocent. "I didn't get as much fruit as you two."

"Whose fault is that? We didn't tell you what to order."

Blossom held up an informative finger. "You know it's a rule that if you go out to eat in a big group like this, everyone has to order different things. That way you sample as much of the menu as possible."

"That's not a _thing_ ," Boomer refuted, but then realized no two of them had the same meal. "Is it?"

"It's not," Bubbles and Buttercup confirmed, then the latter added, "That's how Blossom justifies taking food from people when she makes bad choices."

"This omelette isn't my favorite," the redhead admitted. "The peppers are a little much."

"Then, here…" Brick swapped their plates. "Try the frittata."

"The hell's a frittata?" Butch questioned.

"It's like an egg tarte with vegetables in it," Bubbles said.

Boomer hummed. "Can vegetarians eat eggs?"

"Mhm, it's a main source of protein. Some vegetarians don't, and vegans definitely don't, but eggs aren't animal flesh so I eat them."

"So that's why you never had sushi when I ordered it with your pho, 'cause it's fish?" Bubbles nodded and Boomer grew dejected. "I feel like such an asshole. I should've been getting spring rolls." She patted his shoulder and assured him that she didn't hold it against him. Next time they could order vegetable sushi, assuming there would be a next time.

Butch finished first, eyeballing the single baguette slice and brie on Bubbles' platter before scoping out the Thai pepper omelette Brick had traded with Blossom. "Try it and see what happens," his brother warned, tightening his grip on his fork. Butch skipped over the zucchini and parmesan frittata to a piece of toast and sausage Buttercup hadn't eaten. He looked up from her food and found her regarding him narrowly, daring him to make a grab.

"You gonna finish that?" he asked instead. Given that she was full, she deigned to let him consume her leftovers like the black hole he was. Boomer also gave Butch the remnants of his blueberry pancakes. After Brick paid the bill, everyone followed Bubbles to the milk tea shop where they received some stares for their collectively unusual wardrobe.

"Maybe shopping for casual clothes _is_ a good idea," Blossom stated as they headed to the mall a block away. "But, umm… will anything even fit me?"

"Hubs like this have brands from America and Europe," Buttercup answered. "Don't worry about your boobs not fitting into tiny tops." Blossom blushed but was grateful for her sister's fashion knowledge, feeling less insecure when they entered a department store and found lots of breezy, flowy garments. Pastels and floral prints were always in season much to Bubbles' delight.

They split up when Buttercup disappeared into an avant garde designer boutique and Butch went in search of attire that would fit his big and tall frame. Boomer had never minded shopping with Bubbles, but he always got self-conscious after a while since she had such a distinct, feminine aesthetic whereas he simply threw on any cheap piece of clothing. He thought that because he was an adult now, maybe his style needed to mature as well. "I'm gonna go look for shoes," he told Bubbles. "Text you in a bit."

"Okay, good luck!" she waved. Brick quirked a brow at Boomer's abrupt departure.

_Hey, Buttercup?_

_What do you want?_ she instantly texted back.

Boomer hesitated. Would she go for it? Did she hate him too much? _I wanna change my style and thought you could help._ No response, so he tried again. _I figured you know a lot about fashion and stuff._

 _Obviously_ , she replied. _You're saying you want me to pick out clothes for you?_

 _Yeah!_ _Can you give me a makeover so I look cool and not like a bum like Brick says?_

_Everyone says that about you._

_They do?_

_Yeah_. _At school, your identifier was Boomer the Slacker._

That was news to him. _I don't wanna be that guy anymore!_ he frantically typed.

On her end, Buttercup smirked. She'd never gotten to play dress-up with a male doll before; none of her guy friends would let her work her magic on them. _Meet me on the third floor at a store called Geometrik. We'll start there._

Before they knew it, noon had passed and four of the supers convened at the food court. "I'm starvin'," Butch whined, surveying his options. "I could eat everything in this joint right now!"

"We had breakfast four hours ago. You can't be _that_ hungry," Brick said.

"Shoppin' burns calories, Bro! Especially when you use the stairs instead of the escalators." Valid point. "I musta ran up and down this place five times lookin' for shit."

Bubbles observed his three bags. "Doesn't seem like you found a lot."

"I didn't! Barely anything fits me!" Butch groaned and slouched in his chair. "But I'm so hungry I can't walk anymore. Wish we could fly…"

Brick rolled his eyes at how pathetic he sounded. "Get up and buy your own food. I'm not fetching it for you."

"But Brooo…"

"I'll get you something," Blossom offered. Brick shot her a disapproving look that faded the next instant. He had no right to contradict her, even though she shouldn't be indulging Butch's laziness. "Please, it's the least I can do after you guys paid for everything Bubbles and I picked out."

Butch tutted. "That was all Brick. You think we _share_ a bank account?" He laughed at the notion, then batted his long, dark lashes at the girl. "Thank you, Blossom."

Once the sisters chose a counter to order from, Brick stared at his brother. "Are you on something?"

"No?" Butch answered as if it were a trick question.

"Seriously, are you?" Brick pressed.

"Course not! How the fuck would I know where to get drugs in _Singapore?_ "

"Then why are you being so weird?"

Butch's lips turned down as well. "I'm just bein' myself."

"Right, and that's weird." Brick lowered his voice a bit more. "You know how things are between us and the Girls, don't you? You're not oblivious."

"Of course I know." Butch's demeanor turned serious. "We're not gonna go back to bein' friends with the Powerpuffs unless we act like we never stopped. Me 'n Blossom didn't hang out much back home, so if she doesn't like _this_ ," he gestured to himself, "then that's her problem."

Brick glanced over his shoulder to ensure they weren't within earshot. "After what we did, she's allowed to have problems with us."

There was real scorn in Butch's scoff. "So you're tryin' to _buy_ Blossom's forgiveness, huh? That why you paid for breakfast and her and Bubbles' stuff?" He leaned across the bistro table into Brick's personal space. "We all know we fucked up and fightin' Max is how we fix it. Not kissin' ass and not actin' all moody 'n detached. Stop beatin' yourself up over things you can't change. Accept it and move on."

Those were words Brick never expected to come out of Butch's mouth; his younger brother was not supposed to give him advice like that! But maybe he had a point. If Brick wanted things to return to the way they'd been, he had to be proactive in making those changes instead of wallowing in guilt and self-loathing. He just didn't think it was as simple as Butch made it sound. Yes, Bubbles had forgiven them, but there was still animosity from Buttercup, and Blossom was surely being civil and courteous like they were partners in a business arrangement.

Except… her laughter at Butch's jokes sounded genuine. She stuck near Brick while he absently browsed the racks and proffered things she thought he might like, surprising him with how well she knew his style. He really didn't want to buy anything for himself since he'd have to schlep it back to Townsville eventually, but if Blossom thought he'd look good in it, why not indulge her? It wasn't like taking financial charge today had made a dent in his bank account.

Bubbles found a makeup store that would hopefully be their final shopping destination for the day. "Where the fuck're Boomer 'n Buttercup?" Butch queried of no one in particular. He picked up a lip gloss tester, sniffed it, and put it back. "This smells good."

"Ooh, it's passion fruit!" Bubbles breezed by to toss a pink shade into her basket.

Blossom checked the time on her phone. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen either of them in hours."

"Maybe they went somewhere else," Bubbles suggested, distracted by pretty highlighter palettes.

She pursed her lips. "You don't seem very concerned that your boyfriend could be lost."

"And what about Buttercup?" Brick spritzed some cologne on a testing strip, waved it around, and coughed. Way too musky.

"I'm not worried about her. She probably walked by the stores we were in several times without us noticing." Blossom and Butch came over to test fragrances with him. "What do you think of this minty one, Butch?"

She sprayed it and his nose wrinkled. "Smells like gum." A nearby salesperson gave him a slight glare. That was a $90 cologne!

Bubbles joined them to pull bottles off the shelf at random. "Omigosh, Blossom, this one looks like your old bow! And it smells like… caramel!"

"It's very sweet," Brick added. But it carried the sweetness of actual food and not a nauseating, cloying scent that many _pour femmes_ had. "You should get that."

"I should?"

"Yolo," was Butch's opinion on the matter. Blossom shrugged and added it to her basket. They _were_ living only once, and those lives could be cut short by a single well-aimed Antix bullet.

Bubbles picked out a star-shaped perfume before making her way to the stuff she really needed: toiletries. There were only a handful of brands she recognized, but it was the ingredients that mattered. Just because she'd be messing up her hair after fighting bad guys didn't mean she had to resort to using parabens and phthalates to clean it. She smiled to herself upon recalling the day she and Boomer had re-met, when she'd been a helpful sales associate and he stared at a wall of products with the vaguest idea of what to pick. She whipped out her phone. _Where are you? Are you okay?_

 _Fine and dandy_ , the boy replied, putting her at ease. _Just grabbed a kebab with BC before we were gonna look for you._

So they were together, good. Bubbles relayed that information to their siblings, then reread the message. _BC?_ Since when did Boomer refer to her sister so casually? She and Blossom brought their baskets to checkout where Brick swiped his shiny debit card for the umpteenth time. When they reached the mall exit, they saw Boomer and Buttercup waiting with an exorbitant number of shopping bags on their arms. "Holy _shit_ ," Butch gawked, "did you guys buy the whole mall?"

"I gave your brother a fashion makeover," Buttercup answered. "He'll look like a brand-new person the next time you see him."

Bubbles flounced up to Boomer. "Aww, that's so cool! I can't wait to see what you got!" They shared a quick kiss. "Does this mean you guys are friends again?" she asked in a hopeful tone.

Buttercup rolled her eyes, half-smiling. "I guess. But _you two_ are still on my shit list." Brick and Butch didn't protest. They knew they had to earn their way into her good graces once more.

"We should drop everything off at our hotels before returning to Homebase," Blossom suggested. She checked her phone again. "Although… Beaux hasn't texted us." He wasn't the type to forget, either.

"I don't think they'll mind if we come back," Brick put in. "Let's meet up at the National Museum." It was the most centralized location between their hotels.

"Roger that," Boomer said since that was about all he could do. Bubbles took some of his bags before they set off, yet he was still comically overburdened.

It took about twenty minutes until the Puffs and Ruffs walked into Homebase for the second time that day, now appropriately dressed in athletic gear for hand-to-hand combat lessons. "You guys came prepared!" Bliss called from the boxing ring. She and her giant of a brother stepped out to greet the younger supers. "Everyone, this is Blaze. Blaze, these are the Powerpuff Girls and Rowdyruff Boys!"

His smile was even brighter than Bliss's while he shook each of their hands in turn. "It's really nice to meet you guys." He faltered when he reached Blossom. "I remember you. You got me out of that Siberian bunker."

She looked bashful. "It wasn't _just_ me. I wouldn't have made it very far without Belle."

"Still, thanks. I owe you one."

"Of course you don't!" Blossom refuted.

He winked. "We'll see about that." He reached Buttercup last, who stood ramrod straight when their hands met. "Wow, you've got a strong grip."

She willed herself not to blush. Blaze was a _lot_ more attractive when not lying prone in the medical bay. There was a subtle intensity within his molten eyes, like pools of magma ready to flare up at a moment's notice. At exactly seven feet tall he loomed over her like an African god, all bulging biceps, chiseled chest, and abs that could shred granite. By contrast his facial features were soft and gentle, and he spoke in a calm bass tone. Buttercup couldn't stop staring at him.

"—we know you two have martial arts training," Bliss said. It took the green Puff a moment to realize she and Butch were being addressed. "These techniques should be easy for you to pick up. Would you mind if we used you as examples for your siblings?"

"No problem." Butch rolled his shoulders and stepped onto the mat with Blaze.

Boomer, Bubbles, Blossom and Brick watched attentively while Bliss talked them through a demonstration. "Clarent's fighting style is a combination of krav maga and pankration. A soldier's primary goal will be to get you on the ground in order to shoot you." Buttercup wasn't prepared for Bliss to kick her foot out from under her and shove her down, pressing a knee to her back. "If you find yourself in a situation without your powers, _your_ goal is to either disarm them or throw off their aim." She helped Buttercup to her feet. "How will you do that?"

When Bliss tried tripping her again, Buttercup threw her over her shoulder. "Nice!" Bliss praised, standing. "Butch, show us what you'd do." As Blaze tried knocking him over, Butch stood firm and elbowed him hard enough in the diaphragm to wind him. "Not bad, but there's a much simpler action that'll affect an attacker from behind– a headbutt." Sounds of comprehension arose.

Beaux and Belle, observing from the sidelines, came forward. "Maybe some props would be beneficial," the former suggested. "Actual guns so they can get a feel for it."

"Beaux, no…" Bliss started to say, but he had already unlocked the biometric safe and tossed her a battle rifle that she caught on reflex, lips pressed into a thin, annoyed line.

Bubbles hid behind Boomer. "I dunno about this…"

"Don't worry, they're not loaded." He gave the trigger a few perfunctory clicks. "See? Harmless." Beaux approached Blossom with a pistol aimed at her forehead. "What will you do?"

"Umm…" She hesitantly used her arm to push his off to one side.

Wholly unimpressed, Beaux whirled toward Brick. Brick grabbed and twisted his wrist with one hand and smacked his elbow with the other, forcing him to drop the weapon. "A hyperextension, good." Beaux flexed his fingers while Chemical W assuaged the sharp pain. "Did you all see that, how quickly and efficiently he reacted? That's what you need to do if you don't want to get shot."

Buttercup crossed her arms, annoyed there was something she could learn from _Brick_ of all people. "We don't have that kind of training."

 _"Now you will learn,"_ Belle said with a kind smile. _"These weapons can be intimidating, especially when they are firing at you, but they're only as effective as the people wielding them. You can take away their effectiveness even when it seems they have the advantage."_

Everyone spent the next three hours getting whacked, punched, kicked, and tripped. Bubbles had the second-fastest reaction time after Brick, owing it to the ingrained awareness of her body in relation to other ballet dancers and cheerleaders. Butch and Buttercup weren't as quick but made up for it with power, more than capable of ensuring their opponents couldn't take another shot at them. Boomer and Blossom were the slowest to catch on to the techniques taught by their progenitors; Boomer kept looking at Bubbles to make sure she wasn't getting hurt and Blossom kept focusing on everyone but herself for the same reason.

"Bang, you're dead again." Beaux frowned as her eyes returned to him after watching Buttercup put up a valiant effort not to get taken down by Belle, who was a lot more agile than she appeared. He pressed the cold polymer into her cheek. "Do you _want_ your sisters to live the rest of their lives without you?" he asked.

"Sorry, I just—"

"It's not your job to constantly look out for everyone," he interjected. "You need to watch your own back."

Blossom tried shifting her head away from the pistol but he kept it on her. "They're my sisters. I'm their leader." And it was, in fact, her job to protect them.

"So lead by example and stop getting yourself pretend-killed." His golden gaze flicked over her. "I have you pinned, a gun in your face, and you're hit with Antix. What will you do?"

Blossom took stock of her current position. Beaux was shorter and slimmer than her, but for the sake of the exercise she had to pretend he had all the power. A male Clarent soldier probably _would_ be stronger than her if she lost her super strength, but he'd still be a man. "Should I… kick you?" she tried.

He cracked a smile. "Where?"

"In the privates?"

"Very good." He stood up and brought her with him. "The mercenaries don't wear armor there, so don't hesitate to kick a man in the balls as hard as you can. It's not a cheap blow, it's how you survive." Beaux glanced at a clock on the wall. "We should take a break," he announced. "Get some water, stretch, all that."

The Boys went and dug previously-procured drinks out of their field bags, sitting and panting. Butch flopped onto his back. "I'm fuckin' hungry," he said.

Boomer didn't hear him since he was distracted by how Bubbles and Buttercup could do full splits like they were the easiest thing ever. "Huh?"

"Said I'm hungry," Butch reiterated.

"You're always hungry…" Brick followed Boomer's gaze and scoffed. Now was not the time for his second brain to be in charge.

Butch sat up and chugged an energy drink, then side-eyed Buttercup when she approached Blaze to ask about a joint lock he knew she already knew because she used it on him when they sparred after school. A flush appeared on her chest as Blaze started demonstrating with her arm. "You're turning green," Brick commented. "What was that you told me about accepting things and moving on?"

"Shut it," Butch muttered. He remained laser-focused on their interaction, aware of what Buttercup wanted in a man. Blaze was hella tall, hella ripped, and there was no way he wasn't honest or lacking integrity. What Butch didn't know was if Blaze's smile was the flirty kind or a normal expression, since he'd only just met the guy.

Bubbles also noticed how her sister appeared more flushed than usual and kept her head lowered to hide a little grin. "I think someone has a cruuush," she sang while poking Buttercup's shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous." She sipped her water, then poured some over her head. Training this hard gave her satisfaction she hadn't felt in a while, not to mention her newest sparring partner was extremely competent.

"Blaze _is_ pretty hot," Bubbles went on. "His eyes are so stunning, don't you think?"

"They're just eyes." That made her heart skip a beat every time they met.

"And his body is like, _wow_. Talk about rippling muscles."

"I'm telling Boomer on you," Buttercup threatened, but butterflies swarmed in her stomach with one glance at Blaze's bare torso. It should be illegal for a man to look like that, like someone had gone to all the greatest artists in history and combined their visions of the ideal masculine physique into a single person. Bubbles allowed her sister to shamelessly ogle him for a few more seconds before she nudged her, giggled, and walked away.

"Okay!" Bliss called out, "I think you all have a good handle on the disarming techniques. Now we'll practice some grappling strategies! Boomer and Butch, you're with me. Blaze, you take Buttercup and Blossom. I want Belle with Brick and Beaux with Bubbles."

Boomer knew there was no reason to be jealous of Beaux when he was only showing Bubbles how to stay alive and he wasn't her type anyway. Still, seeing another man take advantage of her flexibility and maneuver her into precarious positions got a rise out of him. His envy showed in the way he shoved Butch's face against the mat after wriggling out of his grip. "Hey, that _hurts_ ," Butch spat.

Boomer sneered. "Do something about it. Don't you know this shit already?"

Butch tried to get up but Boomer held him down, utilizing a bit of power even though they were supposed to keep it suppressed. "Get off."

"Do something about it," the blond challenged again. "Use your judo on me."

"Bro, I'll fuck you up if you don't get off me in three seconds. Three… two…" Boomer didn't budge. On "one" Butch reared up and rounded on him with green energy radiating from his palm, but it met a photon shield before connecting with Boomer. The boys turned to Bliss who regarded them like a disapproving parent.

"Stop messing around. Do I need to separate you two?"

"No," they mumbled. Bliss continued, demonstrating methods to both escape and hold someone in an arm bar. While her legs were around Butch, he heard a shout from Buttercup and craned his neck to see Blaze counter the awesome takedown she'd showcased at Duke's the first day they met. Blaze put her on the mat with a loud _thud_ , and Butch's pulse spiked in response to seeing his hands gripping her thighs.

Bliss, realizing he'd gone totally motionless, turned to see what captured his attention. An amused puff of air escaped her nose and she used two fingers to angle his face back to hers. "Listen to me, Butch. You do _not_ need to be jealous of my brother."

"I ain't jealous," he countered. "Who said anything 'bout that?"

"You did, in the way you're tense and making a fist like you want to punch him." Butch instantly relaxed his hand. "You're seeing something that isn't there." He didn't have to look very hard to see that Buttercup was totally into being manhandled, grinning, blushing, and running her fingers through her hair. What the fuck did Blaze have that Butch didn't besides bigger versions of the exact same muscles? How shallow could she be?

But then… Blaze had never fucked her over for money or been friends with people who made her life miserable. Why did Butch cling to the hope that Buttercup would ever see him as someone other than that, someone who only existed to hurt her? Now _he_ was the hypocrite, telling Brick to get over shit when he couldn't quash his unrequited feelings.

Brick was surprised that he actually worked up a sweat from sparring with Belle. She relayed her instructions mentally before closing herself off to engage him in a fair contest, keeping her distance and only fending him off. _"You're not as aggressive as your siblings. Why?"_ Brick questioned.

 _"My skills are not as honed as theirs,"_ Belle replied. _"Bliss paired us together because you require less instruction than your brothers. Is this not merely a workout for you?"_

 _"The most intensive workout I've had in a while,"_ he admitted. She made a grab for the collar of his shirt. He diverted her hand and planted a foot behind her own, shoving her off balance.

 _"Very precise,"_ Belle praised from the ground. _"Your reading of movements is impressive and your reaction time rivals Bliss's."_

Brick was smug. _"I try."_ The next second, a scissor kick knocked him onto his ass.

 _"Don't gloat until all your enemies have been defeated. Confidence is a boon, but you cannot afford to rest on your laurels."_ Brick only grunted, his cheeks burning in embarrassment for allowing himself to be tripped up after deeming Belle no longer a threat. Only dead enemies couldn't retaliate.

"Let's call it a night, everyone," Bliss said. "I can see that you're ready to fight Clarent, but don't forget to use deadly force against them. Don't hold _anything_ back like you did with us today."

"Don't need to tell me twice," Buttercup quipped, dousing her head with the remainder of her beverage as the Puffs and Ruffs filed out the door.

Bubbles' lip curled. "Why would you do that? You _drank_ that water."

"So?"

"So there's spit in it! There's _spit_ in your _hair!_ "

Buttercup examined the bottle before tossing it into a recycling bin. "I don't backwash. Even if I did, it'll get rinsed out in the shower."

"It's still gross," Bubbles asserted. Buttercup rolled her eyes and the six of them walked in silence for a few seconds. "Hey, Butch, what's your hotel called?" Bubbles wondered. He was the only one whose location she had yet to discover.

"Grand Marina Bay," he answered. "My room has a balcony with a private pool. It's awesome."

"But do you have a programmable shower?" Boomer asked.

"Why would I need that when I got a whole pool to myself?"

"Bet my place has a better room service menu," Boomer returned.

"Bet your bar doesn't give you free daiquiris after midnight."

Brick glanced at him over his shoulder. "You had a daiquiri?"

"Yeah, they're good!" Butch's eyes lit up. "You guys should come try them! There's a buncha flavors– strawberry, mango, watermelon, kiwi, dragon fruit, pineapple…"

Blossom was aghast. "We can't have _alcohol_ , Butch, we're only eighteen!"

"That's the legal drinking age here," Brick pointed out.

"Oh." Blossom blushed. "Still… you probably shouldn't be drinking before tomorrow."

Butch scoffed at her concern. "I can't get drunk, tried once but it didn't work. I like daiquiris 'cause they're basically spiked slushies, and it's _sooo_ humid here. So you guys should come chill with me at Grand Marina Bay!"

Brick shook his head, but to his immense shock Blossom considered it. "You're _positive_ we won't get in trouble?"

"Jeez, Bloss, live a little," Buttercup chided. "Even if we were back home, no one would bust you for having _one_ cocktail." They reached an intersection and stopped. "Does your hotel bar serve food, too?" she asked Butch.

"Yep." His stomach did a little flip-flop during the brief moment their eyes met. No hatred in her gaze.

Boomer shrugged. "I'm down for food and booze if you're buying." Bubbles emphatically nodded in agreement. "Brick?"

He sighed, but it wasn't like there were other events on his social calendar. "Sure, why not? But I'm leaving if the service sucks."

They dispersed, cleaned up, and dressed in some of the fruits of their shopping labors from earlier that day. Bubbles, wearing an ice blue high-low dress and silver sandals, felt like a million bucks as she and Boomer strutted down the sidewalk. Buttercup had styled him like a pro, filling his wardrobe with pieces inspired by Asian streetwear and rock and pop fashion. It was almost a natural fit since he himself was some unknown variety of Asian; he even looked like a Kpop or Jpop star if his cobalt eyes were mistaken for contacts and his blond hair for a dye job. "Wooow," Butch grinned as the Blues approached the bar within Grand Marina Bay. "Is that my little bro on your arm, Bubbles, or did ya trade up for someone with actual fashion sense?"

"Ha ha, fuck you," Boomer deadpanned. "I don't look that different."

"Yeah, you do," Butch insisted. "I've never seen you wear skinny jeans. And they're _black!_ "

"You're not the only one who can pull off black jeans." However, Butch had inverted his typical color scheme by wearing a charcoal grey pinstriped button-down and olive green ripstop pants with _flip flops_ of all the classless things.

"Literally everyone looks good in black pants," Buttercup chimed in. "See exhibit A." She indicated herself and posed with a hand on her hip.

Bubbles loved the ensemble consisting of wide-leg trousers and a faded denim vest over a seafoam green camisole. "You look so mature!"

"That's what I was going for, 'cause you know…" She inclined her head toward the bar. "Don't wanna get kicked out." Buttercup then appraised Boomer's outfit. "Damn, I'm good. But your hair's different from earlier. It works, though."

"Bubbles gave me a quick trim," he explained, mussing his shorter, side-swept locks.

Butch gasped. "Wait, you do hair? How'd I not know this?!"

She lifted a shoulder. "Guess I never mentioned it. But I gave Buttercup her undercut last September, and styled her bob in December, and gave her a new undercut before…" Before school hadn't started. Bubbles swallowed the lump in her throat. "So yeah." She spotted Brick descending into the lounge area and waved. No changes there; he wore a flat cap, rinsed jeans, and a grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms. Around his wrist was a pseudo-tactical timepiece.

"Why'd you buy a watch when you have a Nervo?" Buttercup inquired.

"Lower profile," Brick replied. Her brow rose in what he hoped was approval and not critique; it _was_ Diesel. He then gave Boomer a once-over. A turquoise burnout tee stood out against his dark pants, and he'd accessorized with a couple necklaces and a leather cuff in addition to the monogrammed ring Bubbles gifted him on Valentine's Day. His shorter hair revealed tragus piercings that Brick blinked at. "When did you pierce your ears?"

His siblings shared a look. "He got 'em when I got my industrial," Butch said. Their Sweet Sixteenth birthday present to themselves.

"You seriously never noticed till now?" Guilt flickered across Brick's countenance. "These studs are new," Boomer added, electing not to torment his leader for being so inattentive.

A squee from Bubbles alerted everyone to Blossom's arrival. "You bought the pink pants! I _told you_ they were perfect on you!" Blossom self-consciously ran a hand through her hair, loose and gathered to one side. She had paired the satin magenta trousers with an asymmetrical white top that flared over her hips. Brick had the sudden regret of not asking her out on the town more often.

"Alright, now that we're all here…" Butch rotated to face the bartender. "Jun! A round o' daiquiris in every flavor!"

"Sure thing, Butch." The man set to work pouring ingredients into a blender.

Brick arched an eyebrow. "You're on a first-name basis?"

"He's been stopping by every night," Jun said.

Butch fidgeted beneath the intensity of Brick's judgment. "Just to take the edge off, y'know? I told ya I can't get drunk." He lowered his voice. "I'm stressin' out, okay?"

Boomer was dubious. "I thought you were looking forward to wrecking Max's shit. That's exactly what you said when we met the W kids." Never mind that those "kids" were older than him.

"I know what I said!" Butch exclaimed, scowling. He really hated having his words thrown back at him. "I said that at first," he spoke in a calmer manner, "but now knowin' how Max's goons use those guns in combat…" A slight tremor entered his tone. "If any of us get shot, we're done for. I can't shield all of us all the time."

Blossom and Bubbles reached for him simultaneously, offering the same comforting touch. "It'll be okay, Butch," Bubbles reassured. "We'll come back fine tomorrow. Bliss knows how to organize us, and she can make shields, too. Beaux's a strategic mastermind and I'm sure his plans will go off without a hitch. Blaze is really strong and probably won't even get hurt, and Belle can just tell the soldiers not to shoot at her."

"It's not them I care about!" His brow knit in frustration. "I mean, I _do_. I don't want them to die either, I just…" Jun began setting the daiquiris on coasters and Butch grabbed one, ignoring the straw as he downed a third of the drink in one go. He stopped talking following a bout of brain freeze. Buttercup and Brick wore the same expression, like they wanted to say something encouraging about coming out alive and everyone returning to Townsville without a scratch, but they were too ingenuous.

Blossom laid into her counterpart after they ordered some food and took their drinks to the lounge, which featured an aquarium filled with tropical fish. "Why didn't you tell Butch that it won't be his fault if one of us gets hurt?" she demanded.

"Because it very well might be," Brick returned, straight-faced. "Butch _was_ an offensive powerhouse like Buttercup when we first fought as kids, but after you nearly killed us Him gave him defensive abilities to make us a more well-rounded unit." He spared Butch a glance. "As his leader, I have to be aware of his strengths and weaknesses. If we all get incapacitated and he's left alone, he'll freeze up. It's happened more often than I want to admit."

Blossom mulled that information over. She realized that although she'd read and heard all about the Rowdyruffs' mercenary operations, she'd never _seen_ how they functioned as an older, more experienced trio. There wasn't a single millisecond of combat footage among the data she'd dug up on them. If anyone was about to be blamed for getting the other supers hurt, it would likely be her. After years of inactivity and complacency, Blossom was heading into battle with only two exercises under her belt. She wasn't ready for this war; she was no longer the skilled, confident leader she used to be, and she didn't know the full extent of her mature powers like everyone else. But she couldn't sit idly by and leave all the fighting to her sisters and friends, not when she had the capability to contribute. Putting forth her best effort, even when it might result in failure, was better than doing nothing.

The prospect of failing still terrified her.


End file.
